


Finding My Way To You

by TheNightCourt09



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Nessian - Freeform, Rhysand - Freeform, Tamlin The Tool, Velaris, court of dreams - Freeform, elain and Azriel, feyre cursebreaker, feyrhys, feysand, feysand au, feysand fanfiction, sarah j.mass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-06-10 15:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15294873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightCourt09/pseuds/TheNightCourt09
Summary: Feyre is in a toxic and pretty shitty relationship with her boyfriend Tamlin. The same boyfriend couldn’t be bothered dropping her home one night from a party she was dragged to and ended up having to walk home. Feyre pissed off and cold wonders home at some ridiculous time in the morning when the people she meets are less than pleasant. Faced with a potential rapist Feyre runs to a house, hoping anyone will give her safety. I wonder who lets her in? Who does she meet?





	1. Running for Safety

**Author's Note:**

> This is a feysand modern au, there is abusive relationships, trauma and mature content ;) Please tell me what you think, I want to see what you have to say.

The night was icy, nipping at my skin as I wandered through the poorly-lit back streets. Feet aching, head pounding, back throbbing. This was not my idea of a great night out. My too short dress continued to sneak up my thighs revealing my long legs that not only attracted gorgeous guys but the douche bags as well; they were a blessing and a curse.  
I don’t know why I let Tamlin talk me into these nights when all I want to do is stay at home, curled by the fire as the fresh air of autumn sneak through the cracks under my door and through the floorboards. A fresh cup of tea in one hand, a book in the other, that was the idea of a perfect night. Especially when it was this cold, plus any excuse to avoid Tamlin these days was welcomed. He was never like this before and I don’t know what changed him. He smothers me with his overbearing protectiveness in a way I can’t stand and questions everywhere I go, who I hang out with and what I do. It’s frustrating, I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m too scared to leave though, he has a terrible temper and he gets a look in his eyes that has me shrinking back into myself. Part of me wants to rid him of my life – shove him out the door and never look back – the other part of me, the part that used to love him so fearlessly hopes it gets better.  
He said it would get better, that he would try. His famous last words and the reason I’m stumbling home at three in the morning. Because the jackass couldn’t be bothered dropping me all the way home. 

Douche Bag. 

I leant by a busted-up store front and shimmied my shoes off, a set of terribly tall black heels that I could barely walk in, that Tamlin had insisted I wear. He had gotten me them yesterday and practically forced them on my feet when I’d walked out in my little black party dress. 

“But they go so well with what you’re wearing, it would be a waste,” he complained. When did he get so needy? 

Shoes in hand I continued my long walk back to my house when I spotted someone trailing me. Fear spiked through me, painful and heart-jumping. I had to calm my breath, fear would only get me killed not saved. I needed a clear head. 

I peeked over my shoulder again and found him slow his pace, only by a fraction though. I sharply detoured left, trying to see if it was me just being paranoid. A dead weight settled in my stomach as he veered left with me. 

I picked up my pace and whipped my phone out, scanning my contacts. Which one of them would come and collect me at this dreadfully early hour? 

I turned right and then left for a few more blocks, but I couldn’t shake this guy. His face was covered by a hood, rendering his features ink black. Hands shoved in pockets and a slouched over back had him looking crafty and shrewd. He could have been twenty-two or forty years old. Without seeing his face, I couldn’t tell. 

My breath began to race as I picked up my pace again and fell into a light jog, he kept up. I was sprinting now through the too dark streets, the moon absent in the night sky, only the stars kept me company as I ran. Breath ragged in my throat, legs aching as I thundered down the street. Not even a bloody street light. 

Perfect. 

I scanned the street I was running down and found I couldn’t recognise it. I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know these trees that lined the long residential street, I didn’t know these houses. I was completely and utterly lost. 

The guy sprinted after me, I could feel he was getting closer, gaining speed. Shit. Shit this was bad, worse than bad, this was awful.

Just my luck, as I looked over my shoulder I didn’t see the tree root peeking through the concrete as I fell face first. Palms stinging as they tried to save me from a broken nose. My knees throbbed, and tears welled in my eyes. 

By the time I lifted myself from the ground, the man was behind me hauling me up against him. His breath reeked of alcohol as it whispered over my neck, nausea curled around in my stomach and I was convinced I was seconds from spewing all over the sidewalk. 

“Hello princess, we meet at last,” he whispered into my ear. I could barely hear his rugged voice over the thundering of my heart. “Let’s say you and I get better acquainted then we can have some real fun.”

All my self-defence lessons slammed into me. I had been secretly sneaking off to these lessons every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, before Uni would start and before Tamlin could get the drift. Those lessons saved me from my never-ending suffocation. I finally felt like I had even the smallest grasp on my freedom. 

I calmed my breathing, panicking was going to get me nowhere. I surveyed the area, looking out for a house that looked appealing enough that they would allow me a refuge, if only it were for a few minutes. Then I could call one of my sisters, maybe; though I doubted any of them would come and collect me. They tended to be self-centred, well not both of them were.  
I curled my hand into a fist and pretended to relax into his grip, making it seem as if I had given up. Then as he released his hold on me ever so slightly I slammed my foot onto his, elbowed him in the gut then swung my head back until it connected with his face. I heard a sickening crack as it smashed into his nose then I was running again. 

I had spotted a friendly looking home three houses down and across the street, the light still on in one of the front rooms, I sighed with relief then bolted. A safe place – I prayed.  
I slammed into the little white fence as I scrammed through it and was at the front door before I could draw in my next breath. I knew the guy who was stalking me was running towards me, trying to grab me before I was let in. 

I banged the front door until someone opened it. 

Then standing before me was the most beautiful man I ever saw. 

Though he was not looking at me but at the guy behind me who stopped dead in his tracks.


	2. Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhysand is the gorgeous man that offers her safety, what she doesn't expect is for him to be so hospitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to know what you guys think, I hope to keep writing, I'm on holidays at the moment but not for long

I was puffing, lungs sore as I breathed in and out, trying to calm my beating heart. 

“Plea-please let me in, I don’t know him, he started chas-chasing me,” I puffed out, eyes pleading. If I had to get on my hands and knees and beg for safety I would. 

The tall, dark stranger looked between me and my pursuer. His face unreadable, and before I knew it he pulled me inside and slammed the door. My heart was still pounding from the rush of adrenaline that had spiked through me. I slumped against the door, sore and aching all over. My palms stinging and my ankle, that hadn’t been hurting previously sent pangs of pain through my leg. When did I do that? 

“Are you okay?” a concerned voice asked. I looked up at the handsome stranger that had offered me safety and almost melted at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. His hair was so dark it appeared to be the night itself, and it was slightly ruffled – it made him look more human and somehow more stunning. But his eyes, god they were marvellous, they were so blue they turned violet depending on the way they caught the light. I could look into them all day long, there were so many colours and shades that I would never be able to capture them with paint and a paintbrush. I don’t think anyone could paint him, he was otherworldly. His strong jaw and nose looked as if they had been sculpted from the most talented artist. I was stunned, never in my life had I seen someone so handsome…godly even. Even his black hoodie and tight track pants made him appear elegant and refined, how he did it, I didn’t know.  
“Um...yeah, I think so…um,” I said as I looked down at my grazed legs, I swore I saw a bruise beginning to bloom on my left shin.

“Here let me help you up, you can come sit on the couch.” His voice was like midnight and honey as he pulled me up. His firm calloused hands helped pull me up off the ground and I’m not going to lie I became drunk by his very essence I could barely function. 

He put his strong, muscled arms around me as he helped me make my way to the couch, limping and looking so far from elegant it was funny, especially when placed next to his god-like presence. His jasmine and citrus and the ocean scent wafted off him, intoxicating me further. He lowered me onto the stylish black leather couch and fetched a blanket from its twin in front of me. It was a midnight blue blanket that was so soft it must have cost a fortune, however looking around the luxurious living room it seemed apparent that he was used to living in opulent rooms. The room was bedecked in all things lavish. The three-piece leather couch I was sitting on was so comfy I could have fallen asleep on it and have been more than comfortable. I’m pretty sure it was more comfortable than my bed at home. Facing me was a floor to roof set of French sliding doors that opened onto a beautiful terrace – over-looking the ocean. I didn’t realise how far I’d run if I was this close to the ocean. The expensive television was hung on the wall and there were numerous photos hung next to it. It was really beautiful, and I was slightly jealous that I could never afford a house like this. Tamlin might be able to pay for something like this and he had offered to buy a house for me, but I didn’t want to be given anything. I wanted to work for it, earn it, even though my current residence was a dump. 

“Thank you,” I said as he sat in front of me, crossing his strong legs. “I’m Feyre by the way.”

“Feyre,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue so elegantly that I blushed. “I’m Rhysand, call me Rhys though, all my friends do,” he said. After a moment of silence, he asked “would you like a cup of tea or something to eat?”

“A cup of tea would be wonderful…um…I hope I’m not bothering you, it’s like three in the morning.”

“No, it’s fine, really. I would rather you be here than on the street with scum like that man, and I was up working anyways so it’s not like you woke me up or anything. My friends all sleep like the dead as well so no worries about waking them up either,” he said with a smirk as he winked at me then wondered off to the surely luxuries kitchen to make me that cup of tea.  
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and relaxed further into the couch. How did I get myself into this? How am I not dead? How am I so lucky? Those thoughts continued to circulate through my head until a smooth, sensual voice interrupted my thoughts, “would you like any sugar in your tea?”

“Just one sugar would be perfect,” I said, my voice shaky and slightly husky. 

He came out of the kitchen, holding two steaming mugs and set one out in front of me on the coffee table. I leant forward, suddenly aware of how much this dress revealed. I picked up my tea and lent back into the couch, hoping that if I shrunk back enough I would disappear. I hugged the blanket to me further and sipped on my tea. 

“Is there anything else I could get you? A sweater maybe, you’re shaking.” I was a perfect temperature – if anything slightly warm – but I was shaking from the aftermath of almost being raped. I think I shook my head because he never ended up getting me a sweater. I was really beginning to realise that I could have died, and I began to shrink back inside myself.

“May I ask why a beautiful lady like you was wondering the streets at three AM?” My thoughts withdrew as I focused on his voice.

“Well my boyfriend dragged me out of the house to this amazing party,” I said rolling my eyes, “and then when it got late I wanted to go home, I didn’t really want to go out in the first place. So, my boyfriend drove me home, well almost home. We live on completely different ends of the city. He lives really far south, and I live north, near here I think. Anyways, he couldn’t be bothered dropping me all the way home, he was tired apparently. So, he dropped me half way expecting me to walk the rest of it,” I said, irritated that he had practically left me for dead. I sipped my tea as I saw Rhys’s expression turn to a disgusted cringe as he heard what happened.

“I’m sorry if he I’m over stepping my boundary, but he sounds pretty lousy,” he said. He was right he was pretty lousy, but he said he was trying, but then he left me on the streets at three AM. I was a mix of emotion, not really knowing what I felt, not sure what I was thinking. I was so sick of being confused, I needed sleep. Tiredness began to blur my vision and thoughts.  
“Feyre?” Rhys questioned. I realised that I hadn’t responded to his question, a question I hadn’t heard. God I was so exhausted. 

“Um, sorry, I’m just really tired”

“Would you like to stay the night, we have a spare room that you can crash in if you’d like,” he insisted. I was too tired to really think, and the lure of sleep was too strong. My eyes began to drop, nothing could have kept them open at that point.

“Yes please,” I mumbled before collapsing.


	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre wakes up and discovers that she knows one of Rhys's friends and they are all cute and having breakfast together

I woke up in an unfamiliar room. The outside light pouring in through the large window that opened out onto the sea. It was gorgeous. The ocean was a mix of blues that made my heart ache – I would never be able to capture them the same way. The ocean went on for miles, its large expanse making me feel small and insignificant compared to the crashing waves on the white beach sand. The sky was still painted with reds and pinks, it was only just pass dawn then – this was one of my favourite times of the day.

The plush midnight blue duvet covers lay around me, over me, keeping me warm and safe. The mattress was the softest I had ever had the opportunity to lay on, I was in heaven. Although my mind should be whirring, mentally smacking myself for staying with someone I had never met, that terrible things could have happened I had never felt safer than I did in that moment. I didn’t know why, but the crashing of the waves against the sand, the chirping birds and even the handsome stranger from last night, I was calm and safe and secure. 

The simple room was larger than my kitchen at home and was far grander than even Tamlin’s room at his apartment. If this was how Rhys treated his guests, I couldn’t wait to see what his room looked like. I mentally slapped myself for that thought. I had just met the guy and I was already thinking of seeing his room. 

I sat up straight in the bed and sniffed the air – yep that was definitely bacon cooking, and I could hear a laugh and a few people talking, it was coming from the kitchen. They must be Rhys’s roommates. They all sounded happy, joking with each other as they cooked their breakfast. 

I looked down at my crinkled short dress and blanched, I could already feel the embarrassment of walking into a room with men I didn’t know in an outfit that covered nothing and didn’t leave much for the imagination. I surveyed the room looking for something I could throw on when I saw some folded clothes at the end of the bed with an elegant hand-written note on it.  
These may be too large for you, but I thought you would be more comfortable in these. Rhys.

I smiled at his consideration and rapidly changed into the pair of sweats and large t-shirt. The sweats were the most comfortable piece of clothing I had ever tried on, both black and both instantly more relaxed. I was almost tempted to throw that ghastly black dress in the trash as I walked into the kitchen. The morning light glinting off the marble counter top and the smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes wafted around the warm room. Now that it was morning I had the opportunity to survey the house more thoroughly. Although it was a house decorated with exceptional wealth it was well lived in and well loved. It felt like a home rather than Tamlin’s tiled floors with his maids and cooks. I loved this house the more I saw it and still couldn’t get over that view. I think I would from happiness just looking at the expansive ocean, watching how the light caught it. 

I turned back to the kitchen and saw Rhys looking at me with a smile on his face as he surveyed the clothes I was in and my messy hair and smudged mascara. How did Rhys manage to rock bed head? He looked breathtaking in the morning light.

“Feyre, this is Cassian and Azriel,” he said motioning to the two other tall muscled males in the room. One of the males was facing me, getting plates out of the draw on the other side of the marble countertop. 

“Hi, I’m Azriel, but you can just call me Az,” he said, a polite smile on his face. His eyes were bright with mischief though; I’d have to keep an eye on him, I felt as if he had a sense of humour that was just waiting to surprise me. Az was tall and gorgeous, and he had both the similar skin tone and the same shade of midnight black hair Rhys’s. He was more quietly beautiful, and his eyes seemed to gobble up the shadows in the room. I was mesmerised by him. My eyes flittered over the other male whose face was half turned to acknowledge me when I recognised him. 

“Cassian! Whoa, small world,” I gushed as I made eye contact with him. Cassian was my gym instructor for the self-defence class I take. I love those classes, partly because he is such a great instructor and takes time to check and correct everyone’s technique. I didn’t think I knew someone who was always happy to be at the gym at five in the morning, greeting everyone by name. Also, I couldn’t deny that I thought he was very attractive. Come to think about it, there were three overly gorgeous men in that room, all intimidatingly hot and there I was in baggy sweats with smudged make-up and messy hair. I looked positively adequate next to them, though even when I was dressed up last night I’m sure that I looked just as ordinary next to them.   
Cassian’s dark messy hair is tied up in a messy bun, pieces hanging around his face. Now that I look at all three of them together I wonder if they are brothers. 

“Feyre,” he says as he pulls me into a hug, “how’s my favourite student doing?”

My stomach gurgles in response to his question and he hands me a plate of eggs, bacon and pancakes, a grin on his face. Oh, it looked delicious. 

“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” Rhys surveyed as he served up three other plates, significantly larger than mine. They obviously didn’t know I had an appetite and bet is, its larger than all theirs. I couldn’t wait to eat them out of house and home. 

We all moved over to sit at a rustic uncut wooden table right by the gorgeous window. Somehow, against all this marble and luxury the pastoral wooden table fit in perfectly – I loved it. A beautiful art piece hung on the adjacent wall, it was a painting of a city scape at night, stars and lights and shops and trees and mountains on the horizon, it was beautiful. I could only imagine where it was painted and was envious that someone was able to capture something so beautiful with their hands and some paint. 

“Yeah, he instructs my gym class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning,” I said, spooning a bit of the blueberry pancake into my mouth. I almost moaned it was so delicious.   
“Good isn’t it? I made it from scratch this morning,” Cassian said, praising himself and patting himself on the back.

“Before, during or after you ogled yourself with that spoon,” Azriel said, that humour revealing itself as he used his fork to point and the heaped spoon Cassian had millimetres from his mouth, a shit-faced grin on both of their faces that made me want to laugh. 

“And if you ask me,” Azriel continued, “there really isn’t that much to look at.”

I had to cover my mouth to stop me from laughing, it was just too funny. Rhys bent over belly laughing whilst Cassian replied, “brother, you wish you had a body like mine,” he proclaimed as he flexed his biceps, admiring them. Not going to lie I had trouble diverting my eyes from his sculpted biceps. I saw both Rhys and Azriel roll their eyes and continue to eat their food. 

“So Feyre, how is it that you found your way here,” Cassian asked, I could see the question mirrored in Azriel’s eyes; obviously Rhys hadn’t had time to fill them in. 

“I was just walking home late from a party because my boyfriend couldn’t be bothered dropping me all the way home and some wierdo started chasing me. I ran to this house for safety,” I said, and I could see both of their faces mirror Rhys’s disgust from last night.

“He sounds like a pretty shitt…” Cassian was cut off by a gorgeous tall blonde walking into the room. She was all confidence and beauty that I began to really regret not washing my face.  
“Ooo, a girl. Which one of you unruly boys bought home this gorgeous lady,” she sung. Then she looked at me, “all of these troublemakers would never deserve someone like you,” she said as she smiled, fetching coffee from the kitchen. She looked like one of those women who needed three cups of coffee before she could properly function. 

“And yes Az, I mean you as well.” I looked over and saw Az’s face turn to mock disappointment and shock and couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from my mouth. 

“Feyre, this is Mor and she finds it completely acceptable to butt into people’s lives,” Rhys said with a roll of his eyes and a smile on his face. I surveyed them all and could clearly see that they were a family and I had somehow walked into something special. I felt ridiculously out of place and my face flushed. 

We all finished our food, the rest of them joking and laughing whilst I sat there quiet – I didn’t want to interrupt anything.

As I stood to clear my plate, Rhys beat me to it, collecting it from the table and walking to the kitchen to stack it in their designer dishwasher. I didn’t even know you could get designer dishwashers. 

“Thanks for breakfast,” I said as I followed Rhys, picking up other dishes to help him clear up.

“No let me, you don’t have to help clean up. And I was just being a good host, wanted to make sure you had a good breakfast after a long night, even though Cassian claims he made breakfast, it was all me,” he said as finished stacking the dishwasher.

“To be fair Rhys, you look more like a hostess,” Cassian shouted from the table, “especially with that apron you’re wearing.” I giggled at Cassian’s remark as Rhys flicked him the bird. It was the most I had laughed in a while. 

“Thanks for everything, and for letting a complete stranger crash at your house. But I think I better get going, I wouldn’t want to stay longer than necessary,” I said, though slightly sad that I had to leave this amazing home and the hilarious people in it, I knew I needed to get home – especially because Tamlin could show up any second and if I wasn’t home my phone would not stop ringing until I answered him. 

“Let me drive you home,” Rhys offered, back against the countertop, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“That’s okay, it’s such a nice day out, I think I’ll walk. My house shouldn’t be too far away.”

“You sure? Seriously I don’t mind.”

“No, don’t, I’ve troubled you enough already. I’ll just grab my things and be on my way.”

“You can keep the clothes if you want, it’s slightly cold outside,” Rhys said, his voice smooth and deep. I could listen to it all day. 

“Thanks,” I said as I wondered back to the spare room to grab my stuff. As I passed everyone sitting at the table I said goodbye, waving at them all and saying thanks, as Rhys let me out. 

Although it was a pretty shitty night that could have resulted in me possibly ending up dead, I had stumbled upon a gem. A happy family, something I hadn’t witnessed in a long time.


	4. Tamlin's Panic Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin freaks out because he can't find Feyre, Feyre becomes pissed at him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey i hope you are enjoying the fanfic at the moment. I'm releasing all the chapters I have written and this fic is also on Tumblr. If you have any fic prompts or ideas (acotar and tog only) I can have a go at writing them.
> 
> Tell me what you think of this xx

It was a ridiculously long walk home. I had definitely underestimated how far I ran last night. After getting lost twice and having to rely heavily upon google maps I had finally found my way home. It was close to noon by the time I stumbled to the front door of my tiny two-bedroom house. The lawn looked dry and dead and the floorboards creaked as I stepped over the threshold. I didn’t have a lot of time to keep up the appearance of my house, from my final year at Uni to my boyfriend to visiting my dad in the hospital. 

I placed the keys on the hook I kept besides the door and walked into the kitchen, boiling the kettle and deciding on the flavour of tea. After what felt like a twelve km hike – I deserved it.   
My dress and heels discarded and forgotten on one of the bar stools I moved past my disastrously messy living room and into the bathroom, turning the tap on to run a bath for myself when I heard to front door open and Tamlin’s voice clang through the house.

“Feyre?” I sighed at his voice, my temporary peace interrupted by the boyfriend who couldn’t be stuffed dropping me all the way home. My anger from last night slowly curled around my core rendering me a hot-headed mess. 

“What?” I yelled, slightly too forcefully, but I was so consumed by my anger that I didn’t care. Tamlin walked into the bathroom looking panicked, pink flushed his cheeks and he was breathing heavily. Did he run here? Why was he so stressed?

“Feyre, oh my…where have you…that doesn’t matter…are you okay?” he said into my shoulder as he wrapped his strong arms around me. He held onto me as if his life depended on it, as if my life depended on it. Couldn’t he see I was pissed at him? 

“Feyre where have you been? I’ve looked all over for you,” he whispered, almost afraid that I would disappear. I guess I couldn’t blame him, after last year when I was involved in a serious car accident – well it wasn’t really an accident. I was run off the road by this crazy lunatic Amarantha who the police had been chasing for four years. She was finally caught after my accident, a huge relief to me and to Tamlin. However, ever since then Tamlin had been on edge about my safety. It had been suffocating but he had started to relax over the past few weeks. I thought he was finally over his bout of motherly stress last night when he didn’t drop me all the way home, but I guess he wasn’t. He seemed to be consumed a new wave of overbearingness, turning him into a territorial bastard. 

Fantastic!

“I was out this morning, I went for a walk,” I murmured into his chest as he hugged me to himself. The lie came out easily. I didn’t want to guilt him, even though I was still mad, I thought that if I had told him the truth he would only become more claustrophobic. 

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls? I was worried sick and when I showed up this morning and you weren’t here I began to panic.” His eyes scanned my face, trying to make sure I was okay.

“Seriously Tam I’m okay. I went for a long walk, I needed the exercise and now I’m trying to have a bath,” I explained, pointing to the running water. “Can you please let me have a bath?” I begged. All I wanted was a bath, I smelt horrible from running last night and the walk home in the unnaturally warm autumn heat. My make-up was still smudged on my face and I hoped Tam didn’t notice the unfamiliar male’s clothes I was wearing. 

“Sure, of course. I’ll order us some lunch while you bathe,” he said with a small smile on his face as he left the room, shutting the door as he went. Heaven forbid he actually ever cooked anything. 

I sighed and rested my forehead against the cool tiling on the wall. He was tiring, but I loved him. I hoped that this was just a phase – it had to be a phase. 

I shucked Rhys’s clothes on the floor and stepped into the full bath tub, letting the hot water tickle and wash over my feet as I began to lower myself into the water. My window over the bathtub was open – the cool air kissing my face as the hot water warmed my bones and core. I sighed in happiness and sunk further down, until nothing but my face was covered by the splendid water.

. . . 

I was wearing my paint splattered t-shirt and leggings whilst I painted into the long hours of the night. Tamlin left after we had eaten the Chinese take-out and after he had worshiped my body, still worried that he might have lost me. Little did he know I could have actually been found dead this morning if it wasn’t for Rhys. 

Rhys, he made my knees weak at just the thought of him, and the reason I was painting at an ungodly hour. My mind hadn’t been able to stop whirring as I laid in bed for two hours before finally giving up on sleep and trudged out to the living room to paint. 

Now three hours later, my hair paint splattered just like my hands and a cup of cold tea long-forgotten on the coffee table, I was close to finishing one of my paintings for Uni. 

This was part of the three separate art works I had to complete in order to finally graduate from Velaris University. With my car crash last year, I had to suspend my graduation for this year. Finally, in September, at twenty-three years old, I could graduate at the end of October. Just one more month and I was free. One more month for me to finish this artwork in front of me and begin art work three. There was no restriction to what we could create as long as it had an important message – something worth sharing my teacher had said. 

My first painting was of my old house that stood right by the woods right in the south of Prythian, that was the house that had led me to fight – to get a job. I was determined to get myself out of poverty and to save my family. My dad was too weak to work, he had been sick for the last seven years before finally receiving proper medical treatment. Nesta and Elain had helped, picking up extra shifts at their work, however Nesta had kept a majority of her pay to herself she had still contributed. Together we made enough money to move up north, to Velaris, a beautiful artistic city, a city for the dreamers. Together we had saved money and come out of poverty. Although we were still living pretty terribly we were in a better neighbourhood, where there were plenty of jobs. But it wasn’t until I met Tamlin that things started really looking up. 

I had met Tamlin at an art exhibition far south from Velaris, in Springfield, a large territory in the southern part of Prythian that was renowned for its mild weather and its abundance in plants and flowers. We had fallen in love – that was three years ago – and ever since then he has been more than helpful, supporting me and my family. He was a wealthy CEO at the age of twenty-five and had insisted on paying for me to finish University and for my dad’s medical bills. I will forever be in debt to him.

My second painting was almost done, it was a painting of Velaris at night. The glittering stars and beautiful shops depicted in all its glory. It was right along the rainbow, Velaris’s main strip which consisted of cute café’s, friendly restaurants, art shops and studios, and a gorgeous flowing river that sparkled in the light of the moon and stars. I loved this part of Velaris, it was gorgeous, and this painting was one of my favourites. It showed people that there was still beauty in the world, it showed happiness. Something people needed to be reminded of every now and then.

The third and final artwork I had yet to decide upon. Every time I sat down to sketch an outline for it, my ideas changed, or I was interrupted, or I felt as if my vision for my artwork wasn’t quite right. Originally, I had thought of doing a self-portrait, I liked the idea of exploring identity and myself. But then I thought I could do something with Tamlin as the focus of the composition, but then I really wanted to do another landscape. However, nothing ever felt right – nothing seemed to fit the canvas correctly and it was infuriating.  
As I painted the detailing on the shops and cobblestones I couldn’t get Rhysand’s violet eyes out of my head. Something about him tugged at me, nagging me. No matter what I did I couldn’t shake those damn violet eyes out of my head. I didn’t know what they meant, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out.


	5. The Unavoidable Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin drags Feyre to another one of those boring work functions and ends up on one knee with a ring. Feyre has mixed feelings about the entire situation.

How in the Cauldron did I let Tamlin drag me to another one of these stuffy work events? I must have really loved him, or I was absolutely delusional. I had been pushed into a pink floral dress three hours ago then proceeded to have random hands touch and run my face as they applied a ridiculous amount of make-up. Then my hair was pulled, teased and curled for the next two hours. My hair had been curled and assembled on my head with a number of floral pins. I was spring incarnate, and I wanted to vomit. I didn’t look like myself, I didn’t feel like myself, I was having a difficult time breathing. 

A week after my run in with Rhys, Tamlin had become clingy, clingier than ever before. It was tiring and a form of torture in itself. I didn’t have space to eat, to drink, to breathe and for some reason Tamlin couldn’t see what effect he had on me. Maybe it was the fake smile I had plastered on my face or the way I held his arm – like I used to – but I could swear my eyes always gave me away. At least I thought they were the pools into my soul. My father, when he still cared and worked and supported our family, he used to say that he could read me through my eyes – but maybe, just maybe I had made that all up, it was a long time ago. Tamlin couldn’t seem to read me and he loved me. What did that mean?

I stood there at Tamlin’s side, greeting his friends, laughing at terrible inside jokes that weren’t really funny at all. That was until I saw Lucien and I sighed in relief – a friendly face, finally. I left Tamlin there with his friends and a too eager Ianthe – she was okay, she seemed nice enough – and sped through the party to meet one of my best friends. 

“Lucien!” I exclaimed.

“Feyre, how are you? It’s been what nearly three weeks now.”

“Three weeks since the last function,” I mentioned as I playfully rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty good, except that Tamlin has resumed his usual ways. He is getting ridiculously clingy. Please do something about it for my sake or at least convince him that he doesn’t need to sleepover every single damn day of the week,” I pouted. Lucien was the buffer between Tam and I, I think without him I would have left Tamlin a long time ago. I slapped myself for that thought – didn’t I love Tamlin? Of course, I loved him, he had been my first love.

I could always rely on Lucien to smooth out any kinks between Tam and I and god did I love him for it. 

“Really? Again? Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he wrapped an arm around me and dragged me back through the party, back to Tam. 

“Lucien, how have you been?” Tamlin asked, pulling Lucien away from me and wondering off to talk about business. It never stopped with them, but as I stood there I felt the absence of Tam, I felt the absence of Lucien. In a huge crowd I wasn’t necessarily alone, but I was disastrously lonely. 

I stood there for a few minutes soaking up the restrained laughs and boring setting when I heard a high-pitched voice from behind me.

“Oh Feyre, honey, how are you? It’s been too long. How are you and Tamlin going?” she winked at me, as if she knew something and I didn’t. Ianthe had the looks I could only envy. She had this beautiful and long flowing blonde hair and a model’s body. She was stunning and seemed to enjoy going on the prowl each night to find the next gorgeous man to share her bed. If only Rhys was here, I’d liked to see how she would react. I thought Rhysand was the most gorgeous male alive, equal to his friends Cassian, Azriel and Mor. 

That simple thought of Rhys and Ianthe together spiked jealousy through me. Ianthe would have no problem snagging a man like Rhys, especially with her looks and devilish smile that turned the most respectable men into horny teenagers. 

“I’m quite well Ianthe. It really has been too long,” I said, trying to push down that jealousy. I had no reason to be jealous, I didn’t know Rhys – not really – and neither did Ianthe. 

“I still can’t get over how lucky you are to be dating Tamlin, he’s fantastic isn’t he?” she said. For some reason I felt there was a hidden message – I brushed it off though, Ianthe and Tam had been friends for so long. It was probably just a friendly comment.

“Yeah, I’m a lucky girl,” I said, a smile on my face, a blush creeping up my neck. I didn’t enjoy all the attention on me, it made me feel very insecure. 

“May I have all your attention please, I would like to make an announcement,” Tamlin’s voice echoed from the small platform at the front of the large decadent dining room. “Just before we all sit down to have dinner I have an important question for the one I love.”

Just like that every single pair of eyes darted my way, turning me tomato red. Tamlin held the microphone to his mouth as he beckoned me forward with his free hand.

“The last few years have been a delight, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else. Feyre you are caring, honest, beautiful and ridiculously funny and I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else, there is no one else that understands me the way you do.”

Oh shit, this is what Ianthe meant when she asked how Tamlin and I were. I slowly began to make my way to the front of the stage, but I found it extremely hard to make my legs move forward. They were like lead. My breath began to speed up and I couldn’t honestly tell if I was filled with complete and utter joy or if I was scared shitless. 

Nope I was definitely petrified of what was about to come out of Tamlin’s mouth next. 

“Feyre Archeron, the flower to my thorn, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he said as he handed the microphone to Lucien, pulled a little black box out of his pocket and bent down on one knee. He had the largest smile on his face and his emerald eyes glittered with hope, lust and love.

The entire room seemed to suck in all the air as they awaited my response. I couldn’t say no, not in front of all these people. I loved Tamlin right, he was always there for me. So, he could be a little clingy sometimes, it showed me that he cared, right? Tamlin loved me and I loved him – I had to love him, he did so much for my family, he supported me when I wanted to go to Uni, he paid for my father’s medical bills and half my rent. That had to mean he loved me. But did I love him – I didn’t know if I was as sure as I once was, but I still cared for him.

His grin began to falter, and I realised I was still standing there, a shocked expression on my face and Tamlin was still on his knee waiting for me to say yes. 

“Yes,” I breathed out, I looked into his dazzling emerald eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”

The room erupted, there was clapping and a collective sigh radiating from all the women in the room. Tamlin was standing before me, holding my left hand out as he slipped on the most gorgeous rings I have ever seen, I would never choose it for myself given the chance, but it was glittering and reflected Tam perfectly. An emerald green gem, that reminded me of his eyes, set with a glimmering gold band. Though my smile faltered slightly as I realised this ring was all about Tamlin and wasn’t about me at all. 

This was the beginning of the next chapter in my life, I should be screaming from the roof, telling everyone that I was engaged to the man I love, that I was so overly happy.

Why did I feel so sick?

. . . 

I staggered out of the Taxi, completely and utterly drunk. Tamlin was right behind me laughing in my ear as we both stumbled through the large arches of Tamlin’s manor. One of his servants let us in as we continued to clumsily make our way to Tam’s room. Tamlin’s estate was glittering in all its glory. It was a gorgeous house but on more than one occasion it felt like a cage. His hands were roaming all over my body, touching anything and everything. 

We continued to stumble as we climbed the stairs. He pulled me closer to his body as we finally found his room down the luxurious hallway – why he needed so much space still baffled me. His lips found mine as he closed the bedroom door and led me towards the grand king size bed – it was fit for a Lord. 

“I love you,” Tamlin repeated in between each kiss. He repeated those three words as his hands pressed me against him, as they touched my waist and my backside – gripping me. He said those three words as his lips travelled along my neck, as we maneuvered onto his bed – though Tamlin’s house was decadent and expressed the riches he had it was nothing compared to Rhys’s gorgeous house on the water. 

Shit.

I couldn’t think that anymore, I was engaged…to Tamlin – my fiancé. 

Tamlin’s hands and lips continued to worship my body until dawn.


	6. Coffee Shop Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After struggling with her painting for a while Feyre gives up and goes to a coffee shop where she accidentally runs into Rhys - her handsome saviour from a week ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet...I hope you enjoy.

I was being thrown off the road, I had lost all control of the car as it rolled down the hill – the hill adjacent to the freeway. The car stopped suddenly and then I felt water, water that rose as I began to sink. It was cold, so infinitely cold and I felt as if I would never be warm again. I was having a hard time breathing, the water was rising, and I was stuck. My head pounded from the impact of the car hitting the ice-cold river and I was losing consciousness. My seatbelt wouldn’t come undone no matter how hard I struggled, even when endless blackness began clouding my vision I still struggled to wriggle myself free. I was trapped. I couldn’t breathe. This is where I would die, and, in the distance, I heard the vile cackling of the bitch who ran me off the road – Amarantha. 

. . .

I shot up, the dark walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe, my heart was pounding in my chest, sweat covered me that felt too much like the water I had almost drowned in. There was a sickening lurch in my stomach that had me launching myself out of bed before bolting to the en suite where I swiftly and thoroughly emptied all the alcohol and food from the night before. I heaved and heaved, my throat burning and my stomach clenching painfully. 

Shit.

I hadn’t had a dream like that in a few weeks, I had hoped that I was past all the trauma but maybe this was another bout of it reminding my subconscious that I was weak. That I had been close to death. I let out a shaky breath before heaving once more into the toilet. 

When I was finished I took a deep breath in and lent my forehead against the cool marble of the toilet seat before I leant over and flushed it. I watched the sick being replaced with water and let out another shaky breath. There I was at two in the morning, naked, sitting on the cool tiled floor. I savoured the biting coldness against my burning skin. 

Why did I have this reaction to my nightmares? Why was I still having nightmares?

I stood on shaky legs and went over the basin to clean my teeth and rinse my mouth out, trying to get rid of the disgusting taste that coated my teeth and tongue. 

I looked at my reflection and saw pain and agony, the girl in the mirror looked exhausted – after a nightmare like that I didn’t want to sleep, I was too afraid those same images would repeat over and over in my head, but I was so endlessly exhausted from my late night with Tam and his family. 

I looked down at the engagement ring, was I ready for a life with Tamlin? Physically we had never had any problems, but that was never the issue, we always seemed to get tripped up with the rest. I sighed again before finally deciding that sleep was best for me.

. . . 

I sat in front of the canvas, lost for what to paint. For how hard I tried, I could not get the colour, violet, out of my head. I had tried painting something related to Spring – it was Tamlin’s favourite season but every time I mixed the green of meadows and weeping willows, violets and purples and blues and blacks ended up on my palette instead. It was infuriating I had two and a half weeks left before these were due, before I was finished, and I couldn’t come up with anything. 

I had avoided going onto the Uni campus to paint so that I could avoid my teachers disappointing and worrying glances when the see I have an entire painting to in just over two weeks – I was screwed unless I came up with an idea quickly. 

I gave up, threw my paintbrush down, picked up my jumper and walked outside. The sun was an hour from setting, so I decided that a walk would calm me down, get me thinking. Hopefully something would give me an idea of what I really wanted to paint. 

I walked in the cool autumn air, the breeze sighed through the gold and orange and brown tree leaves and kissed my skin. Those same leaves trickled down from the trees, coating the ground a road. There was something endlessly peaceful about it. The delicious autumn sun licked my face, warming me against the cool breeze. The sun cast a gold light through Velaris, it was dazzling. 

I found my way to one of my favourite coffee shops twenty minutes from home and dropped in for some coffee – it was going to be a late night, I better stock up on my caffeine. 

The little bell rang as I strolled through the white-washed wooden door frame and stepped into the warm café, where the relaxing smell of coffee and delicious sweets met my nose. It was fairly quite at this time of day with only a few people settled in the seats by the windows – soaking up the last light of Velaris before the stars and darkness swept in transforming this city. This city was renowned for its night time sky, around half of this city went to bed at dawn and woke up at dusk just so they could live under the stars and thankfully many of the shops were 24hrs to cater to the lifestyle of so many. 

I strode up to the counter and ordered a large latte to go, I didn’t want to be caught out after dark just yet – I’d rather be safe than sorry. 

I received my coffee from a gorgeous old lady who always worked here, she was slightly round around the belly, had beautiful grey hair that didn’t age her – it made her seem younger – and a smile that made me feel loved even if I just visited her for coffee. I smiled warmly back and turned to leave when I collided with a warm wall of muscle. 

“Shit,” I said as half of my coffee spilled onto the man before me. “Shit, I’m so sorry. God I’m clumsy, I didn’t mean to. Please let me help you.” My words tumbled out before I could look up at the man’s face and saw a mischievous grin plastered on that gorgeous face of his and with those bedroom eyes that had haunted me for the past week and a half.

“Rhys!” I exclaimed, finally realising how close we were and that his black t-shirt clung to him, emphasising his muscular chest. I stepped back, holding my half empty coffee.

“Feyre!” he said with equal enthusiasm. I finally looked at the mess I had created and freaked out.

“Rhys, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t paying attention…let me help –”

“Feyre, calm down. Seriously it doesn’t matter, if anything it gives me an excuse to talk to you again, so I thank you for being ridiculously clumsy,” Rhys said with a mischievous grin on his face that made my insides clench. I blushed at his midnight smooth voice and mesmerising eyes. How was he so beautifully dazzling? It was infuriating that he looked so good in simple black jeans and a t-shirt, the same shirt I had just ruined. Great going Feyre. 

“What brings you to a coffee shop this late in the afternoon?” Rhys asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.

“Touché.”

“I’m just having some difficulties with my final painting,” I offered, trying to continue the conversation just so I could hear his voice. “I can’t come up with an idea, I’ve started about five different paintings and then I’ve had to paint over them again because nothing seems to fit,” I sighed, my frustration evident.

“I didn’t know you were a painter,” he said, genuinely curious in me and my interest.

“Not quite, I attend Velaris University and I’m in my final year. This is my last project before I can graduate, and I have no idea what to do.” Rhys looked contemplative for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be at the moment?”

“No, why?” I asked, genuinely intrigued in what the man before me had to say. God he was handsome. 

“Well you see my sister was a painter and I have a stack of her old artworks that I can show you. You know, you could use her artworks as an artist inspiration. Maybe you’ve even heard of her, Aureole Lilith?” he asked. 

“What! Your sister was Aureole Lilith, meaning you’re Rhysand Lilith?” I was in awe; his sister was one of the youngest artists ever accepted into the Rainbow’s Art School and on a full scholarship, something they didn’t do regularly. She wasn’t overly famous outside of Velaris, but she’d had at least a dozen exhibitions with her high school and then at the art school. The Rainbow’s Art School was where I had wanted to go – begged Tamlin to let me go – but Tamlin had convinced me to go to the University of Velaris – he was convinced you couldn’t actually get a degree at an art school. It was kind of stupid reasoning seeming I was studying art at Velaris Uni. He could be completely crazy sometimes and seeing that he paid for my tuition I didn’t really have a choice. I could have applied for a scholarship but Tamlin said I wasn’t good enough to even be considered by the school. I guess he was right – I was a mediocre artist at best.   
Aureole on the other hand was talented, a born artist. She was known for painting landscapes of the night and Velaris from different viewpoints, using her own unique style. I loved her! She was one of my favourite artists. I envied her creativity and confidence. The entirety of Velaris loved her and adored her. It broke my heart the day she died with her mother in that car crash – other victims from Amarantha’s reckless driving and unstable mentality, thank the Cauldron she was behind bars.  
“Yes,” he said humbly, looking somewhat boyish.

“I would love to see some of your sister’s old artworks, are you kidding me?” I exclaimed.

“No,” he laughed as he looked at my reaction. I felt like hugging the guy, this beautiful amazing guy.

“I’ll take you to her old studio then,” he said as he led the way out of the quirky coffee shop and out onto the street where a black sports car sat parked out front. I pulled my sweater over my hands against the chill, holding my half empty coffee to my face in the hopes some of its warmth will transfer to me.

“This is your car?” I asked, I shouldn’t have been shocked that he owned this car seeming as his house was bedecked in luxury, but I was still shocked that someone could have this much wealth. Even though Tamlin was wealthy he flaunted it in different ways and tended to look down upon people with little wealth. Rhys appeared humble and modest, he looked at everyone as his equals and didn’t flaunt his fortune. Tamlin wouldn’t be caught dead in the coffee shop we had just left and the only reason he was sleeping over at mine at the moment was because I had my paintings due and it was too much work to transport them, though I suspected all of that would change shortly – with me being engaged and all. 

“Yeah, I have a particular taste for expensive cars,” he commented, a broad smirk on his face. Cauldron, I could get used to that face. 

Stop this Feyre, you’re engaged to the man you…love

“It’s snazzy,” I said as I sat in the passenger seat and he turned the car on. It was luxuriously comfy, with its black leather seats and tinted windows. I began to feel self-conscious about what I was wearing. I was sporting my messy art clothes and a paint covered jumper. I’m pretty sure I even had paint in my hair and some of the coffee had splashed onto my jumper as well.

Great!

Whereas Rhys looked like he belonged there, he was the picture of wealth and I just wasn’t, even though he was more coffee splattered than me – thanks to my clumsiness – you could easily bypass that. 

“Don’t worry about the clothes,” Rhys said, obviously reading my facial expression and seeing what went through my mind, “this car was too clean before anyways.” He always knew what to say.

I tucked a bit of hair behind my ear, accidentally showing off my new engagement ring. His eyes centred around the ring and I felt insecure again. His eyes darkened for a moment and he seemed disappointed before a smile bloomed on his lips, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“I see congratulations are in order,” he said before zooming off through Velaris.


	7. Aureole's Art Studio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys takes Feyre through his sister's art studio, its all kind of cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think and if you like it leave some kudos xx

“Your sister’s art collection is wonderful,” I admired as I strolled through the large studio. Aureole’s studio was a large rectangular room right on the river, where delicious smells of restaurants crept into the room, filling it with a number of aromatic scents. Many of her completed artworks were hung up around the studio, there were also large portfolios stacked up on tables and so many unused canvases you could see she had planned on painting for the rest of her life. There was a large wooden table however near some tall large windows that allowed natural light to filter through the studio, along with a number of skylights. On the table, there was old dried up paint covering the entire surface – paintbrushes still left in water and her latest artwork half-finished sitting alone on a paint splatted easel. The unfinished paintings background was predominantly black except, in the centre, the famous Illyrian Steeps had been sketched out. It was a painting of them at night and I could already see that it was glorious. 

“My sister insisted on using this large wooden table as her paint palette always claiming that the hand-held ones were to small,” he laughed, seeing where my eye-line was fixed on. Rhys’s eyes took on a happy but devastated glint, as if recalling the memory.

“Your sister was very talented,” I said, surveying the space. I wished I had a place like that to paint, it was spectacular. When I had enough money, I was going to buy a studio, just like Aureole’s, overlooking the Sidra. That was where I wanted to be, I hoped I’d be good enough to own my own studio – that was really the only thing I had ever wanted, a motivation to keep me going through uni and with Tamlin I no longer had to have a job. 

“She was,” Rhys whispered sombrely, staring at one of the artworks on the wall. “This one was always my favourite,” he said. I surveyed the artwork he mentioned and saw that it was a painting of the sidra overlooking the many shops and restaurants at night – capturing Velaris in all its glory. 

“This place was very special to her, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, she loved it very much,” he croaked. 

“I’m very sorry for your loss, it didn’t happen too long ago, did it?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t prying. I remember seeing it in the newspapers about her tragic death along with her mothers, but I couldn’t remember when it’d happened. 

“Three years ago, next week,” he whispered. 

“Rhys, I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said, knowing that it wouldn’t help to heal the wound in his heart. I had lost my mother, but I was young when it had happened, and she had always favoured Nesta and Elain, brushing me aside. And when we fell into poverty I was treated like scum, expected to do all the washing, cleaning and on top of that I was expected to get a job – it was me who had to support the family especially after my mother died. Elain and Nesta helped after mother died but as soon as we moved up to Velaris they both got an apartment together on the other side of town. It felt like a slap in the face, but that pain could never compare to what Rhys was going through at the moment. All I wanted to do was be there for him, to comfort him. A gorgeous man like him with a kind soul didn’t deserve to be in pain. 

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,” he said, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “Feel free to look around and if you find an artwork that you like, it’s yours.”

“I couldn’t take one of your sister’s artworks away from you.”

“Her paintings were meant to be viewed, not stored in a studio never to be seen again. She would want you to have one,” he insisted. He was right, but I still felt guilty about taking it from him. However, I could see from his face that he wasn’t letting me leave without taking something.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked.

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” he said, that sly grin sneaking back onto his face and his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Fine.” A smile broke out onto my face and I turned quickly trying not to let him see the blush that had crept up my neck. From the small chuckle behind me though, I hadn’t tuned around quick enough. 

I began to walk around the room, taking my time to flick through each portfolio and to view each painting that was hung up around the space. It looked as if Rhys hadn’t touched anything since his sister died. 

But the artwork that continued to catch my eyes was the half finished one, standing in the middle of the artistic mess, with a dark background and messy sketches of the mountains. The Illyrian Steppes were a part of the northern culture and legends. It was said that five hundred years ago winged men and women were trained in those mountains to serve and protect Nightingale – the northern territory of Prythian. It all sounded very heroic to me, there was something endearingly romantic about protecting one’s homeland. And so, the mountains had been named after the famous Illyrian men and women who fought for their land – even though they were just a myth. 

“That one,” I said, pointing to the half-finished landscape in the middle of the room. Rhys’s eyes flicked up from the sketches he was viewing to see where I had pointed.

“That one, are you sure?”

“If you’ll let me have it, I’d like that one.”

“You continue to shock me Feyre, out of all the paintings in this room you choose the one that is half-finished,” he chuckled as he walked over to it, lifted it off the easel and began to wrap it up.

“I think there is something dark and mysterious about it, but also beautifully raw,” I said as I went over to help him wrap up the painting. 

“Thank you,” he said, but I could tell he meant more by those words than me just helping him wrap the painting.

“You’re welcome.” I looked at my watch and realised I had spent more than three hours looking at Aureole’s art, then looked at my phone and saw fifteen missed calls from Tamlin and thirty-two texts.

“Crap, it’s getting late, I should really get going,” I said, reaching over to grab the painting.

“Please, let me drive you home,” Rhys asked, a smile on his face. I considered for a moment, Tamlin would flip if Rhys showed up at the house but it was at least an hour walk home, with a heavy painting and in the dark. Maybe Tamlin wasn’t even at my house. 

“Yes please.”

. . . 

The ride home with Rhysand only lasted twenty or so minutes but we talked the whole way. I learned that he managed three large companies in Velaris and had taken over from his father when he died two months ago. He enjoyed the work because he had the power to influence so many, the paperwork didn’t bother him so much as long as he was able to help people. I thought that was really sweet. Tamlin was the opposite, he was a wealthy business man, but he seemed to do it for the money and hated all paperwork. He would come home from work in a pissy mood, but Rhys was a man with a dream. I didn’t realise how easy it was to compare both of them. 

I also told Rhys all about how my mother died and how my father’s illness stopped him from working so that we were in poverty for a while. I also discussed my love of painting and it seemed to warm something in him. He glowed with pride when I talked about my art and what I wanted to do with it, how I wanted to buy a studio where I could paint all day and night if I wanted to.  
Those twenty minutes were some of the most precious in my life. I couldn’t believe I found a someone who understood me so well. It felt like breathing properly for the first time, like I had been stuck underwater and didn’t know about it. I felt free, weightless even. 

“Thanks for driving me home,” I said when we pulled up at my run-down house. The front light was on casting a yellow light through the car – I couldn’t remember turning that on.  
“It was my pleasure Feyre,” he said and seemed to hesitate on the next words. “I would like to see you again, I know you’re engaged but we could hang out as friends,” he said hesitantly as if worried I would take that the wrong way. I had never really had a proper friend. Lucien was nice enough but tended to side with Tam when things got bad. I had always called Ianthe more of an acquaintance and never anything more than that. Tamlin was my boyfriend and I had never really been that close with Nesta or Elain. 

“I would like that very much,” I said giving him a cheeky smile before getting out of that car and grabbing the painting with me. It was large but wasn’t too hard to manoeuvre out of the vehicle. 

“How will I contact you?” he asked.

“Here,” I said grabbing a pen out of my back pocket and pulling his arm across the centre console as I leaned into the car. I wrote my number on his muscular tan forearm before placing the pen back into my back pocket and picking up the painting.

“Thanks,” he said as he huffed a laugh. I waved back to him before walking up the front steps to see Tamlin standing there, an angry look on his face.

“Who was that man Feyre?” he ground out. 

I hadn’t seen Tamlin this mad at me in a long time.


	8. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin and Feyre fight properly for the first time, Tamlin is a dick and Feyre gets pissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy, I'm going back to school tomorrow so I might not be able to upload as regularly as I have been but I will try to set aside time to write as my destress 
> 
> Also this chapter is really short because there is a lot of dialogue

“Who was that man Feyre?” Tamlin repeated, his eyes glazed with rage as he pointed to where Rhys’s car had been mere moments ago.

“Just a friend,” I said, my voice quieter than I wished it to be. I didn’t understand why he thought every other man other than himself wanted to screw me, cauldron I wasn’t fantastic looking and yet he didn’t trust other men and by the looks of it, it seemed he didn’t trust me either.

“Just a friend? Is that what you call all your other affairs?” His voice became louder.

“Other affairs? What the fuck Tam, this is ridiculous,” I snapped. Did he really think so lowly of me? 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed you getting friendly with Lucien, and now there is this guy, dropping you home at nine o’clock at night. What the fuck is going on with you?” he shouted.  
“That’s it, either get inside so we can have a civilised conversation, or you can leave, be my guest if you’re going to act like a two-year-old” I snarled, pushing past him and into the house, my fantastic evening had just been ruined by this jackass. Smartly Tamlin shut his mouth and followed me inside, closing the front door. 

I placed the painting near the kitchen and continued to walk into the lounge room side stepping my easels and artworks.

“Tamlin, I haven’t seen Lucien since the work function where you proposed to me and let me remind you I said yes.” I held up my left hand. “And that guy, Rhys, is just a friend and wanted to help me with some of my art,” I said, turning around to fully face him, however, there he was holding up Aureole’s painting. 

“What’s this?” he asked, his jaw was clenched and his left hand was fisted – knuckles white. 

“That’s an artwork Rhys gave me, to help with my final piece,” I said quietly, worried about his reaction. I didn’t want anything I said to be the reason that art piece was smashed. It meant something to me and to Rhys and I don’t think I could face him knowing that his sister’s beautiful artwork had been destroyed by this raging prick in front of me. 

“Was that before or after you slept with him?” he growled, just like a feral animal.

“I didn’t sleep with him Tam! Cauldron, why do you keep saying I slept with him?” I was frustrated he didn’t trust me. 

“Then why were you with him?”

“Because I ran into him at that coffee shop you hate and dumped half my coffee on him accidentally and then he took me to his sister’s art studio because I told him I had trouble coming up with an idea for my third art piece Tamlin!” My voice becoming louder and louder, my anger evident. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” 

“Because I ran into him and you were still at work.”

“That’s still no excuse for what you –”

“Look Rhysand didn’t mean any harm by it,” I interrupted.

“What did you say!” Shit!

“I said…said ‘look Rhysand didn’t…didn’t mean any harm,’” I stuttered out. He was really beginning to freak me out.

“Rhysand as in that prick Rhysand Lilith?” he ordered.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“What did you say,” he growled.

“I said yes,” I said slightly louder, looking at the floor. “Wait you know Rhysand Lilith?”

“That filthy whore is a lowlife with an attitude problem. He’s a cocky little fucker, and a bastard and I despise him and his little family,” he ranted. “Are you telling me Feyre that this piece of shit art came from him?” he said raising the canvas.

“That artwork is not shit you bastard.” He let out a feral snarl and hit the canvas against the wall, smashing the canvas frame and then let it crumble to the floor.

“That,” he said pointing to the destroyed artwork, “you bitch, is for calling me a bastard and for calling Rhysand Lilith your friend. He is no better than scum and I don’t want you talking to him ever again.” Tears prickled my eyes; my heart broke at the sight of the destroyed artwork and for the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see Rhys again. 

“Tam, you’re being unreasonable,” I croaked out, my throat thick from the sobs I held back.

“No, I’m not, you are acting like a child. I don’t expect my future wife to act like this and by being with that vile whore you undermine me,” he barked before storming out of the house and slamming the front door. 

When I finally heard his car speed off down the road, I sank to the floor, letting out all the tears I had held in. I was a weeping mess on the floor and crawled to the destroyed artwork. I tried to somehow put it back together, prayed with all my heart to some long-forgotten god that they would rewind time and protect this artwork – this sacred beautiful artwork.

I sobbed harder, the pain in my heart increasing as I sat there against the wall. Holding the canvas on my lap and cried and cried until I could cry no more. 

Tamlin had treated me like shit, he had never been this mad at me – not for a long time. The last time he was like this was when he thought Lucien and I had slept together but that was months and months ago. Of course, his claim was utterly ridiculous seeming as Lucien was like an annoying older brother, sending me into constant trouble. 

Was this all my fault? Did I cause the fight between us? Did I deserve to be treated like that for hanging out with Rhys?

I didn’t know anymore.

. . .

I sat on the floor until the long hours of the morning, not really thinking about anything. I felt numb. It wasn’t until my back grew stiff from sitting at a weird angle, that I finally gave up and tumbled into bed, not bothering to change. I had lost my appetite after the fight with Tam and the idea of food had my stomach churning in disgust. Which was strange because usually I was always hungry, I guess it must have been the stress.

. . .

I woke up at dawn, the pale pink light filtered in through my window, coating my face with delicious warmth. I stretched my arms out and then shivered, my house was freezing – I must have forgotten to put the fire on last night. That was when I realised I had fallen asleep on top of my covers. I sat up pulling my duvet with me and shuffled out of my room and into the kitchen.   
I passed the broken canvas and tears prickled my eyes before I continued to walk to the kitchen to make myself a hot cup of tea. Whilst the kettle was boiling I went outside to fetch some wood and put it on the hearth, starting up a fire – anything to warm the house and me. 

It wasn’t long before the living room was delightfully warm, and I was sitting on my small couch, tea in hand – soaking up its warmth.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, gradually warming my face and legs more and more before I got the motivation to leave the warmth of the couch and duvet and trudged back to my room to get ready for my morning self-defence class. I had avoided it this week making excuses like ‘I needed to be painting instead of exercising’, but I really needed to blow off some steam from last night.

I wanted to limp out of the gym crying because my muscles were so sore.


	9. Release and Recover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre goes to the gym to blow off some steam from the previous night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter draws on inspiration directly from chapter 30 of ACOMAF, with some direct lines straight out of the book. I'm rearranging some of the events to work with my story line because I really want to explore the idea of abuse and mental health within Feyre. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Also this a really short chapter - sorry

“Feyre, where have you been all week?” Cassian said, a wicked grin on his face. That was until he saw the look of pain and anger set on mine. “Hard?” he asked, knowing exactly why I had shown up today and not blown it off like I had for the past week. I just nodded and began to settle into the warm up we usually did before class, trying to let the simple exercises numb the rage that was boiling underneath my skin. I felt out of control and I wanted – needed – something to settle me, to centre me before I lost it completely. I envied how happy he was all the time and he always knew what to do and say. He was special, and he didn’t even know how much he meant to me – how much I needed him at that moment. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, his eyes expressing concern. 

“No, I’m fine,” I said, however, we both knew it was a lie. I wouldn’t have come here this morning if it were true. 

“Okay, fine is good – fine is great.” His hands coming up to his face as I finished strapping my hands and relaxed into a defensive position, one I had become very familiar. That’s when he noticed the ring – that damned emerald engagement ring that represented Tamlin, not me. That ring was nothing like what I wanted. Did he even know what I wanted anymore? “Congrats,” he said, pointing at my left hand. I clenched my jaw and brought my hands up, ready to spar. 

“Thirty one-two punches; then forty; then fifty,” he said noticing the way I clammed up at the mention of my recent engagement. 

I let out a breath and was glad this would keep my mind busy, I couldn’t think of last night otherwise I would breakdown and I couldn’t let Cassian know why. He would then tell Rhys and I couldn’t stand the guilt that was building inside of me – it was his sister’s artwork. I just needed to keep my mind as occupied as possible. 

My fist slammed into Cassian’s sparring pad, snatching back as fast as a snake as I struck with my right, shoulder and foot twisting.

“One,” Cassian counted. I struck again, letting my body fall into the movements, letting my muscles ache and burn as I continued to strike over and over again.

Why did Tamlin lose it at me like that? I had stood by him through it all, when his parents died in that gang fight, when his brothers abandoned him after they found out his father had left the company to him, the youngest of three. I had been there for him, even when I had plans I had changed them and been there. I had never once betrayed his trust, I had never snapped at him like this – damaged something he loved, and I loved that painting. I enjoyed spending time with Rhys. I finally had someone else to talk to and he did this to me, out of jealousy or ignorance I didn’t know.

My brow creased in concentration, sweat sliding down my back and forehead as I struck again and again. 

What had I done to be treated like this? Did I deserve this? When I had woken up in the hospital after Amarantha ran me off the road it had been him, sitting there holding my hand, so why was it now he seemed to not care for me – or that he cared too much. It was becoming unbearable, but I couldn’t talk to him about that yet. He had yelled at me so viciously I barely recognised him. And when I checked my phone this morning there was no sorry text or missed calls.

Tears began running down my face, both in frustration and defeat but I kept striking, kept the rhythm of the punches because if I was to stop then I really would crumble. 

That painting, a piece of Rhys and his beloved sister, was lying there smashed on my living room floor. That art piece meant something to me, I had connected with it, but nothing I had said had stopped Tamlin from crushing it, just like he crushed me. The sound of the wooden frame breaking would haunt me for a long time. 

It was only when Cassian had been pushed up against the wall on the other side of the room, did I stop. I dropped my arms and looked at his face.

“I’m all right,” he said quietly. I had pushed him against the wall, we had started sparring on the other side of the room and now here he was, against the opposite wall.   
I looked away from him, it was hard to make eye-contact. I couldn’t’ face him and I couldn’t face Rhys; not after this. 

“I have to go,” I whispered before turning, grabbing my bag and half sprinted, half-limped out of the building before Cassian could catch me. I couldn’t stand his concerning eyes and worrying demeanour. It was too much, this was all too much. How had I gone from being on top of the world to feel as if its entire weight was crushing me. But I had gotten what I came for, I truly did limp out of the gym and it felt great. 

. . . 

I didn’t want to go home, not just yet. I couldn’t see that broken canvas or those walls that had witnessed me collapse to the floor after Tamlin left. Instead I let down all the windows of my car, the air blasting through, hair blowing back and forth, as I sped down the open road. My music was blasting, and I let it consume me. The beat of the music matching my beating heart.   
The ocean on my left sparkled in the glistening sunlight as I continued down the road. The trees on my right stood tall and observant as I sped past them. How I loved this part of Velaris. 

Faster and faster, I pushed my foot down on the accelerator. The speed of the car consumed me. I loved the feeling of being free. The weight of last night no longer pushed against my chest and I felt as if I could breathe freely. 

I inhaled deeply, the air calming my nerves as I collected myself bit by bit. Every beat of the music, every tweet of a bird, every crash of the water against the sand mended my heart that bit more. 

After an hour of driving down the coast and cruising through Velaris, I finally found my way back home. Determination set on my face as I had finally come up with an idea for my final artwork.


	10. Forgivness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is lost in her painting, loving the feeling of creating when the person she doesn't want to see at all comes rushing to her, with empty apologies and a bouquet of terrible flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to release another chapter, I really wanted to make it right, and fit it into the story properly. Don't worry we will be seeing more of Rhys and his inner circle shortly.

I sat in front of the canvas, sketching out the landscape with a piece of chalk. I felt relieved to have finally come up with an idea for this final piece. I had chosen to honour Aureole and paint a replica of her recently broken artwork. Though it was to honour her and her memory it was also a gift to Rhys because I knew he would have loved to have seen it finished. It was all I could offer after my damned fiancé smashed it. I was so furious with him I thought I could scream. How dare he? It wasn’t my fault he lost his temper – and it sucked because it took me a whole day to figure that out. It was so easy to shoulder the blame for something he did. He made me feel like crap and that I, of all people, was the reason he was mad. It was him who was being unfair and acting like a child. It was not my fault. 

I mapped out the landscape, taking extra time to get the shape of those mountains perfect – I really wanted to do this artwork justice. I had laid her artwork out on the floor next to me as I sat at my easel – completely lost in the feeling of painting and creating. It was liberating, the feeling of the chalk and paint against the rough surface of the canvas. I could breathe easily as I accidentally smudged the paint on my blue sweater trying to get those colours absolutely perfect. 

My face scrunched in concentration as I sat there all through the rest of the afternoon, capturing the last bit of natural light, and then I painted further into the night. 

I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t, I was too excited about it. The only time I stopped was to make myself a cup of tea and then I was back at my easel, holding a paintbrush, mixing colours and applying the paint with such meticulous detail. 

It would be perfect. 

It wasn’t until half past two before I stumbled into bed and fell asleep on top of the covers, too exhausted to change my clothes, or untie my hair from the bun I had put it in earlier that day. 

. . . 

The sun wasn’t up quite yet when I sprung from bed, only having just over three hours of sleep before I was back in my living room, eyeing Aureole’s artwork and mine side by side. The sleepy light of dawn just trickling into my living room, painting it in a soft pink hue. 

They were close to identical, the two artworks. The mountains were in full detail, but it was the unfinished sky on both of them that needed attention now. The only way I could determine whose was whose was that Aureole’s artwork had broken wood sticking out from underneath it. It made me sick to look at. 

I stood there for a moment, wondering how I could continue. I couldn’t copy Aureole’s painting anymore, I had completed all she had. I needed to focus on the night sky, render it perfect and decide where I wanted the placement of the moon. But from the soft moonlight illuminating the mountains I gathered that Aureole had planned on the moon being on the top left of the canvas – I could work with that. 

But this painting felt like it needed something else, like she had another idea for it. There seemed to be a section in the centre of the artwork that had been deliberately left for a form of some kind, but I couldn’t think of what. I racked my brain for anything that could go there but my mind was blank.

I looked around the room as if searching for some inspiration but came up with nothing, that was until I spotted my paint splattered laptop laying on the worn cream couch by the window.   
The light of dawn was slightly brighter as I sat on the comfy couch, wrapped in a blanket and began my research. I remembered that the snowy, mountainous landscape drew on the Illyrian legends. 

Their interesting history spoke of two main wars that happened within five-hundred years and that there were multiply casualties on both sides. It also spoke of how the land used to be divided into Courts and that the Night Court was one of the most powerful and mysterious. I found it fascinating. I also looked into how the warrior camps used to run and reading they held females in such a low regard that their wings used to be clipped so that they would never fly again – to stay forever bound to the ground and their family. 

It was absolutely feral.

When Illyrians were initiated as warriors they received certain tattoos for luck and glory on the battlefield. Tattoos had always appealed to me. I’d really wanted to get one but when I brought the idea up with Tamlin he scoffed and said that only tramps got tattoos and that he would break up with me if I ever got one. 

However, these Illyrians were painted with gorgeous swirls in night black ink – they were mesmerising. 

I continued to read, falling into the calmness of researching. Apparently to become true warriors the Illyrians used to perform in the Blood Rite. A test for survival against the harsh and unforgiving Illyrian Steppes. Their wings bound together as they travelled across the land with no food or water and only the clothes on their back. They had to fight their way across the harrowing land and battle other crazed Illyrians to get to the peak of one of the mountains. It was brutal yet entirely captivating. 

The Illyrians were also rewarded with siphons, coloured gems that helped focus their killing power. Only the very powerful were granted such items however there were two legendary Illyrians who were granted seven. Seven siphons to control their mass of power. It was uncalled for and yet they needed those siphons otherwise it would have been dangerous for them and everyone around them, especially on a battlefield.

It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a series of sketches that everything in my mind aligned. There, on my computer screen were sketches upon sketches of these Illyrian warriors. They were all muscled and strong with sweeping wings, taking on a bat appearance. My breath hitched slightly as I scrolled down and down taking in each drawing, and it was the tattoos on each of their chests and backs that had my full attention. The sweeping lines and curls of the tattoos were magnificent and glorious. Seeing them sketched onto the Illyrian chests rendered them authentic.

I looked between my computer screen and canvas and knew, absolutely knew in my bones that I needed to paint an Illyrian there. In the centre of that landscape. I could see it in my head now. 

Surrender to the night

That’s what I would call it. A lone Illyrian, flying in the night sky, head bowed as he swept upwards through the clouds. The image stuck in my head and I instantly grabbed my sketch pad, attempting to mimic the rough sketches before me before I started on the idea I had in my head. 

. . . 

It was around noon, and I was still focused on those Illyrian sketches, playing with different positions and the way their wings looked. I had even started slapping paint on the pages to try and work out what colours would be needed to be used when there was a curt knock on my front door. 

I looked up, shocked out of my intense focus and then looked towards my phone. No missed calls, no texts, nothing. Rhys still hadn’t texted after I gave him my number two days ago; I didn’t know if I was sad or disappointed by it, though I gave no thought to Rhysand as I carefully approached the front door. I didn’t think I would be able to handle Tamlin, not after what he did to me. 

There was another knock – more forceful this time. I took a deep breath then steeled myself as I opened the door and saw Tamlin, standing there with a bunch of flowers and a sorry look on his face.

“Feyre, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it like that. I just saw you two together and lost it. Rhysand is a nasty piece of work so when I found out that you had looked so happy after spending time with him I snapped,” he blurted out before I had a chance to register that Tamlin was standing there apologising. 

I didn’t know what to think – should I forgive him? After what he did to me, I didn’t think he deserved it.

But then my eyes beelined to those flowers and amongst the bright yellow and pink flowers that were all Tamlin’s favourites there were roses, red roses. 

I looked up from the flowers and into his eyes, those pleading eyes that had a million apologies in them. He didn’t even seem to notice how I tensed up at the sight of those roses. I hated red roses, they were at my mother’s funeral, because those were her favourite. The red roses also remind me of Amarantha, her ruby red lips and hair were the exact shade, and she had always had the distinct smell of roses cling to her. 

I shuddered and stepped back from Tamlin, how could he not know.

“Feyre, what’s wrong?”

“Those damned red roses that’s what. You know I hate them!”

“Oh – oh I’m sorry Feyre,” he said, noticing the bouquet. “I just…well I forgot Feyre. But this doesn’t mean anything. I still love you and I shouldn’t have said those things or broken that painting. And then when you didn’t call at all I freaked out and rushed straight here.”

“You think I wanted to talk to you after you said those awful things about me! What is wrong with you Tam, seriously, you can’t just come waltzing to my front door and expect an apology it’s not fair on–”

His lips smashed into mine and I was pushed back into my house. 

“I’m sorry Feyre,” he said in between each kiss. “I’m sorry,” he repeated into my mouth, when his lips trailed down my neck, when his hands squeezed my ass. And I suddenly found it very difficult to remember to be mad at him. This was what we were good at, not the talking, just the physical contact. 

My responding kiss must have been enough for him because he stopped apologising and focused all his energy into that kiss. 

Though, as I got swept up by his strong arms and carried to my bed, never once breaking our kiss, I didn’t know if what we had would be enough for a marriage or if we could somehow work it out. I had to, Tamlin he had done so much for my family. I had to work it out, didn’t I?


	11. Mrs. Suriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre feels trapped in her house so she retreats to Velaris Uni for some sanity  
> Cute Feysand things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY SORRY i know its like two weeks late and everything but I was having difficulty writing this chapter, it just didn't sound right.
> 
> But here it is and its a longer one. I hope you like it and tell me what you think.
> 
> Don't worry shortly Feylin shall be no more and Feysand will rule!

The sound of him breathing and the shaft of warm buttery sunlight on my face awoke me from my deep slumber.

I examined my room through groggy eyes and found everything messed up. Our clothes were thrown everywhere, my bedside lamp was on the floor and the duvet was half on Tamlin, half hanging off the bed.

Had last night really been that rough? The memories I recalled from last night were all intense – heavy breathing and loud moaning. It was amazingly pleasurable but didn’t have the same relief it usually did. It felt as if something was missing. Like a piece had broken between us and now we didn’t quite fit together – like we used to.

I sighed as I manoeuvred my way out of Tamlin’s firm grip – even when sleeping he couldn’t let me breathe. The spot between my legs was tender and sore as I sat on the edge of bed and grabbed the first piece of clothing I put my hand on – Tamlin’s oversized green shirt. On my way out I saw not one, not two but three condom wrappers on the floor.

Great!

Why was it that every time we had a fight we resolved it by sex? We never actually talked about our issues. The sex was great, but it really wasn’t a healthy way of resolving anything. I’d have to talk to Tamlin about it when he woke up though I would doubt he would think anything was the matter between us. He was so caught up in the old us that he forgot to see that we had changed – that I wasn’t the same girl I used to be.

I surveyed my messy living space, there was paint and paper and random sketches everywhere, there was also bits of charcoal on the floor, half crushed. And a stack of canvases piled in the corner. Why was my life so messy? I loved the mess sometimes, but it was moments like these when I felt like my life was falling apart that mess freaked me out.

Tamlin’s sleeping form haunted me from the next room, he’d be pissed if I woke him up and even more pissed to wake up and find that I wasn’t safely wrapped in his arms, ready for morning round of tumbling in the sheets.

I looked to the clock sitting against the wall on the kitchen counter, 8:30. Uni campus would have opened an hour ago, and I really needed to get my paintings evaluated by my professor to make sure I was on the right track, especially because I hadn’t been on campus for a few weeks. Could I leave Tamlin alone in my house? I didn’t really have a choice, I needed a new scene and to get out of the house before Tam woke up. It was a necessity that I got out of the house before I went crazy. I was struggling to breathe.

Before I could talk myself out of this or wait for Tam to wake up, I snuck into my room and fetched some leggings, a wool jumper and my old converse (that were falling apart bit by bit). I tied my hair into a bun at the top of my head and as quietly as possible collected up my art supplies and stacked my three canvases in the car. I quickly scratched a note to Tamlin, letting him know where I’d gone and left it on the pillow beside him. I felt slightly guilty for deciding to go to uni, he’d probably planned on spending all of Sunday together and I’d just messed up his plans.

As I left my bedroom I stopped to survey his naked muscular chest. It was gorgeous. His muscular planes were rendered even more magnificent by the delicate sunlight. His blond hair appeared magical in the warm soft glow of morning and his face was ethereal in its beauty. For all of Tam’s faults he sure was handsome. How did someone like him end up with someone like me? I looked at my emerald engagement ring and sighed shakily.

Then I left him asleep and drove off to the Uni campus, relieved to see the tall oak trees lining the entrance of Velaris University, the leaves vibrant reds, oranges and yellows.

The windows of my car were down, and I breathed in the cool morning air, allowing it to cleanse me and calm me. It was refreshing. Uplifting. Revitalising.

I parked my car near the art building and carried my equipment into my favourite art studio. Velaris had an extraordinary art program, obviously not as good the Rainbow Art School but that was fine by me.

The Uni had invested in a number of advanced art studios equipping each with amazing tools ranging from paint to clay and all of the above. But the studio that I loved the most wasn’t necessarily the largest or cleanest, it was one of the few old studios still left after the huge renovation.

It was slightly overcrowded with easels and tables but had the best view and lighting. The studio overlooked the massive oval and ancient stone water fountain and had these towering windows to let in all the natural light. Many of the other students didn’t come here, not knowing what a tressure it was.

I lined up each of my canvases on easels and set them next to each other, surveying them in the natural light. They seemed to all connect together, as if telling one story. I loved them and thought they were amazing I just need to make sure Mrs. Suriel, my art professor, felt the same. She was quirky and a complete gossip – always keeping her ears open. She seemed to be all knowing and I was constantly intrigued by the sheer amount of knowledge she crammed into her brain. Mrs. Suriel was definitely my favourite person here.

I had never been great at making friends so during my entire time at uni I’d been a bit of a loner, only knowing a few other students and that was only because we had completed a few group projects which had been absolute torture – I didn’t like working with others when it came to art. It just felt wrong and I had a certain way of painting that the others hadn’t really agreed with. It was frustrating.

As I reached for my pencil to begin sketching the Illyrian form onto a scrap piece of paper just to make sure I had his form absolutely perfect before transferring it onto the canvas my phone buzzed from my back pocket.

 _Have you missed me yet?_ The phone screen flashed, an unknown number next to it.

I started texting back before my mind could register what I was doing.

 _Who is this?_ I shot back.

_Only your most favourite person in the entire world_

Well that solved the mystery – it was Rhys. I’d been lost in ridiculous fantasy’s wondering when I was either going to bump into him again or he was going to text me. It was ridiculous, I didn’t really know him, not when you thought about it. But, Cauldron, there was something about him that made my heart melt.

 _How could I forget about my most favourite person in the entire world?_ I texted back.

_I am offended you didn’t know it was me and will expect you to be on your hands and knees begging for my forgiveness_

_I’m sure you would love me on my hands and knees_

_On the contrary I wouldn’t want you any less than my equal_

My cheeks heated at the last text. Damn, he was such a flirt and the worrying thing was that I secretly loved it.

When I didn’t reply Rhys sent me another text.

_How are you anyways?_

_I’m fine, why?_

_Just making sure that everything’s alright_

_Cassian told you about my breakdown, didn’t he?_ I knew Cassian had probably informed him on what happened on Friday. My heart broke at the idea that Rhys, who didn’t really know me either, was worried about me. I couldn’t remember the last time Tamlin had asked me if I was okay.

_Yeah and I just wanted to make sure you are okay_

_I’m pretty good actually._ I texted back, though that felt like a lie. I didn’t feel pretty good I just felt fine – if fine was a feeling.

 _That’s great to hear. What are you doing today?_ Rhys asked.

I had planned on spending the day painting and waiting for Tamlin to eventually call me or rock up at the campus pissed because I left him that morning, but I had needed to get out. That house was too messy, too wrong and I didn’t know if it was because Tam had spent the night and I felt dirty about giving up on our fight, letting out bodies do all the talking. However, the idea of hanging out with Rhys today filled me with excitement and joy – an emotion I hadn’t felt regularly these past few days.

 _I’m at Uni painting, though would you like to do something later?_ I asked, feeling bold and brave for being so direct with him.

_I would love to do something with you today Feyre, how about I pick you up at noon and we can go out for a nice lunch or we could even go for a walk. Just as friends of course, I do remember that you are engaged :)_

_I would love to hang out with you Rhys_. I texted back before turning my phone off, squealing like a little school girl. I was engaged to Tamlin and yet felt warm and giddy at the idea of seeing Rhys.

Cauldron save me, I was in some deep shit.

. . .

I was sketching the Illyrian form onto the canvas, struggling with his face as I didn’t have a model to copy from, when Mrs. Suriel waltzed into the room, humming a merry tune.

“Oh Feyre, how are you? It’s been a few weeks,” she exclaimed.

“Great thank you, I have my third painting half completed,” I said, excited to show her my work and yet equally nervous. I hoped she would like them.

“Oh, Feyre these are marvellous,” she said coming around the easels to view them. “How did you come up with the last one,” she asked.

“I had some inspiration from another artist,” I said, cheeks turning red.

“Well, whoever that artist was, they must have been fantastic!”

“She was,” I whispered before turning back and continued to sketch the Illyrian form, immersing myself in the strong form.

“Who are you painting?”

“I’m painting an Illyrian, but I’m having difficulty with the face,” I disclosed. I needed a model for this painting desperately. His face had to be strong and harsh. At first interpretation he’d look terrifying, wrath incarnate; but if you looked close enough you would see the beauty of his face. The wings flared not to hurt but to carry from danger. You would see that he loved more than any other and he dreamed of a better world.

“Well you better find someone soon; the paintings are due in just over a week.” Fuck. “Also, Feyre, a little birdie told me that you got engaged.”

“How did you find out about that?” Clear shock ran through my voice. I knew Mrs. Suriel knew everything – that’s what she was renowned for – but seriously.

“I have my sources. Let me see the ring,” she demanded as I stuck out my left hand. “Tamlin’s your fiancé?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said though I couldn’t fight my cringe at the mention of Tamlin and fiancé in the same sentence.

“Looks like you aren’t all that happy that you are to be married to him. If it’s any consolation, I never liked him. I think he’s too controlling and cocky, but that’s just me.”

“You’re telling me. He can be a real ass sometimes,” I joked, but we both knew I wasn’t joking.

“But Feyre,” she said, the seriousness returning to her face. “If you need to talk about anything you know where to find me.”

“Thanks Mrs. Suriel,” I mumbled as she waltzed back out of the room. It was as if she had never been there in the first place.


	12. Cute Things and Bad Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre spends time with Rhys and is basically low key falling in love with him, then Tamlin shows up and everything goes to shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the turning point so don't worry good things are coming and also some bad things, I hope you like it

“You paint beautifully,” a dark sensuous voice floated across the room from the doorway.

I jumped back from the canvas, dropping my paint palette and almost rolling my ankle, my breath hitched, and my pulse increased tenfold. Rhys was there – just a few metres from me. I didn’t think I was breathing. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked as I leant down to pick up my palette and begin cleaning up the floor. Of course, it landed face down, of course it bloody did.

“About twenty minutes,” he laughed as he moved around the canvases to help me with the mess. “But you were so focused that I couldn’t interrupt.” He had a smirk on that gorgeous face of his and my breath hitched again as our hands touched, I swear he heard it because his smile grew. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Let me grab my stuff and we can be out of here in a sec,” I said, placing the brushes on the table and walking around to the sink to wash off the paint that had found its way onto my hands and arms. Even paint splattered my leggings and my jumper – they had just been put through the wash. 

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Your artworks, they’re incredible. I knew you were an excellent painter but these…these are phenomenal. I especially love your last one,” he admitted, cauldron I could never get sick of that smile. Shut up Feyre, you are bloody engaged, I sledged myself. 

“Thanks, I had someone special inspire me,” I responded, the Illyrian form was painted in block shades, but you could see it pretty clearly. A smile creeping up on my face at his praise. Though I was dreading telling him what happened to his sisters painting, I knew I would have to tell him eventually – maybe later then. 

“Ready?” I asked, fully facing him now and he began laughing. “What!” I demanded, worried about what I was wearing, maybe he was making fun of my clothes.   
“You’re covered in paint. Feyre, how in the cauldron do you have paint on your neck?”

I began laughing too. I liked that – laughing – it felt good. 

“It just happens, I don’t know how, but it does.” I laughed again as I grabbed my bag and walked past him out the door. “Are you coming?” I said in mock seriousness. 

“Yes ma’am.”

. . . 

 

Rhys and I wondered down the streets of Velaris, past the small book shops and food stores and all the way to the Sidra. The sun was high in the sky and it was an unusually warm day. I ended up having to take off my jumper, but it didn’t really help. The sun was relenting in its warmth and many around me had opted for t-shirts as well. Some going so far as to wear shorts. I glanced down and realised I looked plain and boring and messy next to Rhys. He was wearing plain black clothes, but obvious wealth was wound into the fabric and by the way it fit his perfectly muscled form. 

He caught me ogling him and a knowing, yet cocky smile appeared on his face, making me avert my eyes. I tried to look at the store fronts or the flowing river – I even tried to find interest in the cobblestoned walkway, but my eyes constantly flicked over to him as we continued to walk. I took in the way he waked confidently, how his muscles shifted beneath his jeans and the way his strong biceps swayed as he walked. He was mesmerising. When I glanced back again I noticed a sliver of black ink peeking up from his chest. I was so tempted to ask him about it but decided to keep my mouth shut. It could end up being an uncomfortable conversation because I didn’t know where it was and how far it might go down his corded chest. My face turned bright red just thinking about it.

As I looked over to him I wondered how betrayed he’d be to find out about his sister’s artwork. I tried to bring it up again and again but there was always something better to talk about or I’d chicken out. I couldn’t handle Rhys being mad at me, he was the one person in my life I could trust to not be frustrated with me or have massive mood swings that about knocked me over every single damn time – like someone else I knew. I glanced down to that intrusive ring. 

So, I didn’t tell him, not yet – I couldn’t. 

He was taking me to his favourite café, and I was excited to see a place he loved. Maybe it would tell me a bit more about him. I was so curious to know everything about him, I didn’t know why but I was. 

“I come here with my family every Friday night, then we head to Rita’s, the bar just up the road,” he said, a smile on his gorgeous face. I envied that – having a family. I never really had one, not really. Nesta was always cold, Elain too aloof and my mother died when I was young. My father was at a rehabilitation centre for his knees and back – he could barely walk most days and he also had a heart condition that needed constant monitoring. I needed to see him shortly, I hadn’t been to the hospital for over a month and I knew Nesta and Elain would never visit him. I was all he had. He might be just as alone as I felt most days.

“Your roommates and Mor?”

“Yeah, Cass, Az, Mor and Amren. You’ve met most of them.” He smiled, recalling that breakfast we’d all shared together. “Cassian and Azriel are my adopted brothers, Amren is a close friend but its only Mor I’m related to.”

“How?” I asked, just remembering her bright golden hair, and glowing personality made me envy her, I would never be able to be as carefree as her.

“She’s my cousin,” he said. “Here we are.”

I surveyed the restaurant that had dining both inside and out. It was in a beautiful location overlooking the Sidra and right on the Rainbow, and the smells that wafted through the open door made my stomach rumble. Had I even eaten breakfast?

“This looks amazing,” I admitted as we took a seat outside, so we could see the most vibrant part of Velaris. I must have been to the Rainbow a dozen times, but I had never seen this place.

“I love it here,” Rhys confided, before picking up the menu.

. . .

The first bite of my chocolate tart was so extraordinary that I almost moaned aloud. 

I had eaten some fancy lamb wrap, then ordered chips but I was still hungry. So, I had a piece of vanilla cake and now I was gobbling down the tart as well. Rhys just looked at me, an impressed smile on his face as he witnessed the amount of food I consumed. He had opted for a steak sandwich that had smelled divine and tasted delicious. I’d snuck a bite from it when he went to the toilet. 

This entire restaurant was a gem. I was in love with it so thoroughly that I vowed I would return – and soon. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to survive without this food.   
“Tell me what your companies do Rhys,” I asked, demanded more like it, but Rhys didn’t seem to mind all that much. 

“Well I own three businesses but only run two. The largest company, The Night Court, basically runs itself and I pop in every four months to make sure they’re on track. They are a big corporation that deals with investments and shares. But its Velaris Incorporated and Illyrian Publishing that I focus on the –”

“No way, Illyrian Publishing! They’ve published some of my most favourite books of all time,” I admitted.

“Which ones?”

“The Throne of Glass series of course, and the A Court of Thorns and Roses Series.” 

“The last book in the Throne of Glass series hit my desk on Friday, I haven’t had a chance to read it yet though.”

“Cauldron, really! I’m so jealous of your job.” I could barely contain my excitement. Rhys laughed at that. We both did. And it was then that I realised it was only with this wonderful man before me that I began to feel like the old me. The Feyre before that damned car crash that had ruined my life. 

“I spend most of my time working for those two companies,” Rhys continued. “Velaris Incorporated deals with a wide variety of things, such as shelter for the homeless and food kitchens. We have set up over fifty different homes around Velaris that can house up to thirty people at a time. But Velaris Inc. also supports a wide range of local business, such as this one.” He saw my face widen with shock; he smiled at me but continued. “Then Illyrian Publishing works on publishing a wide range of books, and each book has to go through me before it’s sent to printing,” he said as I swallowed the last mouthful of the tart. “I spend my life reading.”

I soaked up each of Rhys’ words as I asked him to explain everything in full detail. I didn’t know if it was because his voice was like honey or if I loved that he talked to me like I wasn’t a two-year-old. Not once whilst we talked about his companies did he shut me down – he answered every question I fired at him, not like Tamlin – this man was nothing like Tamlin at all.

All too soon, Rhys paid the bill and we began our way back to the campus. I still planned on spending the next few hours there, but I also didn’t want to leave Rhys. I was drawn to him, and I didn’t know why, because for some reason – no matter how hard I tried, this man next to me continually crept into my thoughts. And hearing him laugh was like starlight caressing the midnight sky. I wanted to make him laugh. I wanted to be the reason he laughed. 

As we rounded into the uni campus, and wondered back to the art block, I noted Tamlin’s car parked right next to mine, he was standing there glaring at me. 

I paled, my heart picked up and I took a step away from Rhys. I stopped hearing what Rhys was saying, and I stopped hearing the wind sigh through the tree leaves. All I saw was Tamlin walking towards us, hands fisted at his side and his green eyes like death. All I heard was his angry steps as he got closer and closer. 

“Feyre, get in the car now,” Tamlin said in a deathly calm voice, his eyes piercing Rhys’.

“Feyre, Tamlin’s your fiancé?” Rhys asked, and as I flashed my eyes to his face I saw everything from the past few weeks click into place and then Rhysand’s face grew stone cold.   
I nodded then turned back to Tamlin. “Tam, can we not do this right here?”

“Get. In. The. Car. Fey-ruh,” He spat at me. 

I swallowed. 

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Rhys said calmly, but with enough force that something bad would surely happen if Tamlin made the wrong move.

“Shut up Lilith, you’re a fucking whore. You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t say to my fiancé.”

Rhys only became angrier, his shoulders tensing, and his jaw looked clenched. 

“I’ll get my things from the art room,” I said, turning away, trying to stop anything from happening between them.

“They are already in my car, you can get your car later.”

I shivered at the tone of his voice and began to walk towards the vehicle without a second glance back at Rhys. Shortly after Tamlin turned away from Rhys and slammed the car door, then raced off. 

. . . 

“Tam please slow down. Tamlin you’re driving like a madman.”

He didn’t respond, instead he gripped the steering wheel harder and sped up even more. I couldn’t do it, the car it was moving too fast. He knew – Tamlin knew that going at high speeds put me on edge. It was how the crash– 

“Tamlin slow down! Please.” 

I had never hated that word more.

He didn’t listen.  
. . . 

“For fuck sake Feyre, what is wrong with you?” he yelled. 

We were now in one of the many living rooms, screaming at each other – again. But my hands were shaking, and I couldn’t see straight. I just…I couldn’t…I didn’t know what I felt anymore.   
“What’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with you?” I fired back.

“I told you he meant trouble and to never see him again and, where were you? Laughing with him on the day I’d planned to spend with you. I woke up this morning to a cold bed and a pathetic note telling me where you’d gone.” 

I shrunk back into myself, not wanting to be there – with him. I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking so much – it didn’t work. Only an hour ago I was eating a delicious tart with Rhys, laughing and feeling lighter than I had in weeks and then Tamlin waltzed into a perfect afternoon and everything had been flipped on its head. 

“Tam, please, stop. Just stop talking for three seconds,” I pleaded. My vision became glassy and my lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air in. 

“Stop? Are you serious? I’m just telling you how it is. We are supposed to be getting married in a few months Feyre and you’re out whoring yourself to other men.”

“Few months?” I asked, confused. We hadn’t set a date for the wedding. We hadn’t even started planning the wedding yet. 

“Yes! I had Ianthe plan everything and I was going to tell you today what we’d settled on. I also thought it was time to inform you that you are going to move out of that shithole of a house and start living here, with me. Close to me.”

“Tam –”

“No! There is no compromise. Most of your stuff is on its way now. I packed everything up this morning whilst you were off whoring yourself out. Feyre you are never to see that man ever again!” His voice boomed through the mansion and I was scared, so scared of him. 

“No, Tam, stop everything’s going so fast I –”

“No, you stop, do want to marry me or not?”

“Of course I do but, Tam –”

“Then you move in here today and that’s the end of discussion,” he yelled before turning away and slamming the door. 

I stood there, struggling to breathe, not really knowing what just happened. Our wedding had been planned without me, I was moving into his huge mansion today and I couldn’t see the person that finally made life happy again. 

I collapsed to the floor and let the sun warm my back as my tears warmed my cheeks.


	13. Deterioration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre's situation becomes worse and there is little she can do about it.

Rhys

I watched as she walked away. I heard how he spoke to her. I watched as she got in that car. I heard the way he slammed the door. 

She looked pale. She looked scared. 

She was not happy, and she didn’t look like she was in love.

I just stood there as it happened. How was that vile piece of shit with that beautiful radiant girl? He was the boyfriend that let her walk home at three in the morning. He was the one that most probably was the reason for her melt down with Cassian a few days ago. He was the one she cringed at when someone mentioned fiancé. 

It was him, all him. She looked alone, and I stood there as it all happened. I did nothing, and I hated myself for it.

. . . 

Feyre

The days blurred together. I got up later and later each day. I had painted for a bit a few weeks ago then stopped – just stopped looking for new things to paint. I stopped entering that art studio Tamlin had set up for me the day after I moved in. I just…couldn’t. I hated the smell of the paints and the mess and all that colour. 

I ate food then sat and stared – I didn’t know what I stared at though. I tried talking to Tamlin, but he shut me down – every time. He was always at work or trying to fuck me. Most nights he succeeded because I gave up saying no. It was easier that way. I couldn’t handle his temper.

I didn’t really remember submitting my artworks. I remember Mrs. Suriel’s concerned face as she looked at me then at my third artwork – it wasn’t exactly finished but I didn’t care. That had happened only a week of moving in with Tamlin. 

I didn’t really remember graduation either. I remember putting on the gown, that famous graduation gown I had looked forward to wearing ever since I started at Velaris University five years ago. I had started with a scholarship then Tamlin insisted he pay. 

“Going to University only counts if you pay the tuition,” he’d once said when I told him of my scholarship.

I remember after the ceremony there was a large party at the mansion, there was food and wine – lots of wine. I was introduced to many of Tamlin’s friends but there wasn’t a single person there I’d wanted to talk to. I ended up excusing myself and falling asleep before nine o’clock. 

Since graduation, a month and a half ago, I hadn’t painted anything at all. 

I had stopped cataloguing colours all together.

My wedding was in three months now – on the first day of spring. Tamlin had planned it all without me. I didn’t even get a choice in the flowers or what my dress looked like. Instead they threw me into a tulle monstrosity that was better off being burned than ever being worn. I also heard that red roses were to be used throughout the ceremony and reception then proceeded to cry for hours after trying to get it changed. Apparently, no one cared what I wanted anymore. 

I had moved into Tamlin’s mansion – Tamlin’s not mine. In the first few weeks I had tried to make it homelier by attempting to redecorate, but Tamlin saw the paint samples, threw them in the bin then proceeded to yell at me for the next few hours about gods knew what – I had stopped listening. 

I didn’t listen most days either. 

His estate was too cold, there was no life. The floors and windows were polished every single day, nothing was out of place, you could be at one end of the house and not hear anything at the other. 

Tamlin was controlling, more than often. He was suffocating me, like he suffocated me right after my car crash. Except this time, it was worse. 

All the decisions in my life had been taken away from me and I couldn’t do anything about it. I had tried so hard, I had fought and fought and fought. But each time I got weaker and weaker and Tamlin knew. I just gave up because I knew his answer would always be no. No. No. No – that’s all that came out of his damned mouth. 

I also hadn’t seen Lucien since the proposal, and I didn’t think I wanted to. His face would remind me of both the great times we had all once shared and now the bad times as well. 

On top of all of that, my nightmares had returned, but they weren’t all of the car crash. They were sometimes me trapped in a car or having someone between my legs. Sometimes I saw his blue eyes in my nightmares, those were the most painful I think. I hadn’t seen Rhysand since that lunch we had spent together. I had ignored all his texts and calls. I didn’t have the energy for it.

But because of those resurfaced nightmares I vomited into the toilet almost every night. I think I was losing weight because my old pants became baggy around my waist and hips and my jumpers clung to me differently. It was just like last time except worse, so much worse. 

So, in the middle of winter, Christmas just around the corner along with my birthday, I sat in one of the sun rooms that faced onto the wide expanse of roses. I had just woken up, it was one o’clock in the afternoon and my pyjamas hung to my limp body. I sat and stared – but I didn’t know at what. 

. . . 

Rhys

She wasn’t answering her calls, or the numerous amounts of texts I’d sent her way. I hadn’t seen her at the Rainbow, or that coffee shop near her house. I went to her house once but there was a for sale sign out the front and when I’d looked through the windows I saw all the rooms were completely empty. Not a sign she had ever been there at all. 

There was a small dent on the wall in the living room I think. It looked like something hard had hit in – I just hoped it hadn’t been Feyre. 

I talked to Mor about it, about how this beautiful girl that had waltzed into my life two months ago in the middle of the night was nowhere to be seen.

I couldn’t work, and I couldn’t sleep. My guilt at letting her go was eating me alive. What was worse was that it had a similar effect on Cassian and Mor – he hadn’t seen her at the gym since her melt down, and Mor was helping me search everywhere for her as well. Just to make sure she was okay. My entire family knew what Tamlin was capable of. 

I tried to call again – she didn’t answer. 

. . . 

Feyre

“Feyre!”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, as I shuffled out of my room, eyes tired – always tired these days. 

“Feyre,” Tamlin said again as he dropped his brief case and swung me around. I was shocked by how happy he was. He felt like the old Tamlin again – the Tamlin that had swept me off my feet.

“I have a present for you.” He pecked me on my cheek, then pulled a small box out of his pocket.

“What’s this for?” I asked, my voice slightly bored even though I tried to coax as much happiness into it as I could. 

“Just something special you can wear on your wedding day,” he said as I opened the box. Inside was a pair of emerald green earing in the shape of a teardrop with a red gem hanging off it. They looked ridiculously expensive. 

I looked up at Tamlin, he had a smile on his face and his eyes were bright. The brightest they’d been in months. But I felt nothing. The earrings were all about Tamlin and nothing about me. Just like my engagement ring. The emerald was the colour of his eyes. And that red gem dangling from it reminded me too much of her. Of her lips. Of my blood as it poured from my head and arm. I had become so good at letting the colour red not affect me, but over these few months those fears had all resurfaced again. Maybe it was because I wasn’t keeping myself busy or the fact that the colour red didn’t really represent Amarantha anymore. 

“You don’t like them?” His voice became sad. 

“No, it’s just…” I cut myself off – I didn’t have the energy.

“No tell me,” he insisted. Maybe this last time, I could fight. He was in a good mood, maybe, just maybe he’d see reason. 

“I just, you’re never home but when you are you fuck me. We never talk anymore. Am I even allowed to leave this house alone?” I asked. I was shocked by my tone of voice, there was a fight in my voice, something that hadn’t been present in a while. 

“Of course, you can leave the house.” Tamlin let go of me. “This is not a prison, I am not holding you here against your will.”

“Then why is it that whenever I go outside I’m accompanied by one maid or another? Why is it that I can’t buy any of my clothes, someone does it for me? And when it suits you, you finally decide to wander back home, gifts in each hand as a way to make up for your absence.”

“You can’t leave without someone accompanying you Feyre because you might just go to Rhysand. I still don’t –”

“– trust me, I get it. But this is ridiculous. Tamlin, I’m suffocating. I need to leave the house and stop sitting and doing nothing. Tamlin you are suffocating me. I need space and you are not giving it to me. I –”

Then the world turned black.


	14. Abuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin loses his shit. There is a lot of fighting verbal and physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There is a domestic violence and attempted rape in this chapter.

There was movement, and bright light – too much bright light that it stung my eyes. My head was pounding and swirling, and my cheek felt raw – not raw – it throbbed, painfully.

My limbs were heavy as I tried to shift my arms and my breath hitched as I struggled to realise where I was. My lungs felt small – too small. Where was I?

“Feyre, oh Feyre I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to, it’s just that I overreacted. I wa–,” I stopped hearing him. I didn’t want to hear him. My eyes finally adjusted to the bright light and looked around. We were still in one of the many living rooms, my back was at a weird angle as I half lent up against the wall, half slouched onto the marble floors. Did Tamlin hit me?

The man I supposedly loved…

He couldn’t have…

“Feyre please forgive me.”

No. “I won’t do it again.” No.

“It was just a bad –”

No. No. No. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t function. How could he? He loved me! Why?

“Stop,” I muttered as I sat up, cupping my cheek. “Just stop.”

“Feyre, I’m sorry I –”

“Tamlin, stop. Just stop talking. I can’t do this, you can’t do that,” I cried out.

“No Feyre, it was a mistake, you just drove me insane, you sounded so ungrateful and I couldn’t control my rage. You sounded so selfish Feyre, that I lost it. I’ve been doing so much for us, with work and the wedding. I’m sorry I hit you. I’m sorry Feyre, I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine, so sincere – but me, I was the _selfish_ one. I was the one who sounded _ungrateful_. What was wrong with him?

“No,” I said.

“What?” he snapped back.

“No, Tam, I can’t do this anymore. I’ve been miserable for the last month and a half. I have no freedom anymore. We are supposed to be married.” I didn’t care if he hit me again or beat me half to death, maybe it’d be a mercy to be ended. I was consumed by my rage, rage I thought I had lost. “I need to leave, I need to get away. I’m dying Tamlin. This manor it was never meant for me. This isn’t the life I wanted.”

“A life with me. I shower you with gifts and jewels, you have your own private art studio. I make enough to support us both comfortably. I paid for you to go to University and for your father’s medical bills. If it wasn’t for me Feyre, he’d be dead. And now you have the audacity to tell me that this isn’t the life you wanted. Just because I’m not that filthy whore. Its Rhysand fucking Lilith that you want isn’t it? I’ve seen the texts he’s sent you and all the missed calls. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were waiting for the right moment to ditch me then run off and fuck him.”

His voice was the only thing I could hear. His voice pierced my brain. They embedded themselves so thoroughly into my self-esteem and confidence that I felt I was being brutally wounded.

“Feyre you’re just a little bitch. You and Rhysand would deserve each other if that’s what you want. What’s stopping you Feyre, certainly not me. So, you run to him Feyre, you worthless piece of shit.”

“Tam stop that. That’s not what I’m saying–”

“Isn’t it? I’m not good enough for you. I’ve stayed by you after the car crash and through everything else and this is how you repay me!”

“No Tam–”

“You better be in bed by the time I get home, or you’ll live to regret it,” he spat in my face, before entering our room quickly just to walk straight back out, holding a few items that looked like they were mine. “I’m taking your phone, wallet and keys. If you leave, you’ll be all on your own,” he laughed menacingly and strode out the door, without a second look back.

I sat there, for a few moments, calming my breathing and moved sluggishly to the kitchen to grab an ice pack for my face. It hurt like a bitch, almost as much as his words. He said those awful things to me, and he hit me. Tamlin actually hit me hard enough that he knocked me out.

Sobs that I’d been holding in thoroughly hit me, they were uncontrollable. I couldn’t breathe properly.

I couldn’t breathe.

I collapsed to the floor, clutching my chest and trying to force myself to breathe. In and out, in and out.

 _Bitch_.

Deep breath in.

 _Worthless_.

Deep breath out.

The words Tamlin had snarled in my face played back to me.

But maybe I deserved it. He had given me so many things.

I didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t love, surely not. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

**. . .**

 

I lay there in bed, looking up at the ceiling waiting for Tamlin to stumble back home. To his home. My mind was whirring, so many things said and so many unsaid. I knew though that if I continued like this I wouldn’t make it to the wedding.

I was so _tired_ , so so tired all the time. But my mind wouldn’t shut off. So, I laid there waiting. Always waiting. I fell asleep before Tamlin came home.

**. . .**

 

I was woken by thunderous footsteps and rowdy groans. Then there were hands pulling back the covers and pulling at my shirt.

“Get off,” I yelled and tried to push him off. I went to slap him off, but his large hands trapped my wrists above my head. The alcohol that emanated from his breath was enough to make me gag.

“Feyre, I’m going to make you feel so good you’ll never think about leaving me again,” Tamlin whispered into my ear then plunged his hand down my pants, attacking my core roughly.

“No Tam get off me,” I yelled again, I was writhing, trying to get free from this horrid man that I called my fiancé. Instead his other hand reached up my shirt and he was massaging my breasts so roughly that tears welled in my eyes. “Tamlin! Stop!”

He continued, he had his full weight on me and I’d become so thin that I didn’t have the strength to push him off. Tamlin didn’t even flinch at my tone of voice. Instead he plunged his fingers into me, pumping them in and out before he half undid his pants and pulled mine down as well. There wasn’t even a condom.

“Tamlin, no stop please. Please stop,” I yelled through my sobs.

“Maybe if you get knocked up then you won’t leave me,” he growled. This was not the Tamlin I had loved. I barely recognised this man.

 _No_.

 _Stop_.

 _STOP_!

I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be with Tamlin. I didn’t love him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This couldn’t be what marriage and true love was supposed to be. So, I wriggled my knee free and before I could think I kneed him in the cock.

He screamed out and clutched his groin and that was enough for me. I sprung from the bed, pulling up my pyjama pants as I ran to the door and down the stairs. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have my phone or any money I just needed to get out of that damned house.

I ran and ran as hard as I could. I stumbled down the stairs, through the numerous living rooms and I was almost out the door when I was slammed forward into it.

My vision went blurry.

“You are never leaving. Do you understand?” he yelled. Then he got onto his hands and knees and whispered like a lover would, “you are mine.”

No.

I was hoisted from the floor and thrown over his shoulder, I screamed and kicked all the way back to the bedroom, but his grip on me just tightened. When we got to the room he kept moving past the bed, and into our shared walk in wardrobe.

He threw me on the floor then looked at me and sneered. “Just in case you were thinking of sneaking off whilst I slept,” he said, as if it were nothing, then walked out and slammed the door.

Then I heard the sound that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

The clicking of the lock as Tamlin bolted me in.


	15. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is trapped inside the wardrobe and has a hard time functioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obvious domestic violence so you are warned

I pounded and pounded against the door. The walls were closing in on me, destroying my already broken soul. It hurt – physically pained me – to be in that space, that small claustrophobic space.

I’d been locked in, I hated small spaces and Tamlin knew that. He knew I still had some trouble being confined in small rooms. He bloody knew, and he did it anyway.

There wasn’t enough air in the wardrobe, I felt dizzy and lightheaded. But worse than that I felt weak. It didn’t matter how hard I pushed, shook the handle or ran into it the door wouldn’t budge.

There was no light. I had no idea where I ended, and the darkness began. And my dry sobs where all I could hear. They thoroughly racked my body, consuming me and everything that I was. It physically hurt my lungs and my stomach clenched onto itself. I thought I was going to throw up. Those breathing exercises that once calmed me didn’t work. I was trapped. Tamlin had trapped me. He tossed me in here and threw away the key.  

I banged on the walls, I threw shoes and clothes and bags, I screamed and begged anyone to let me out, but my struggling was futile. Nothing was getting me out of here, not anytime soon.

A new wave of sobs hit me, they were more powerful than the first. My head was swirling, I felt like I was on a ship, the gentle arms of the ocean rocked the boat as if lulling it to sleep. It was hard to keep my eyes open and harder to remember how to breathe.

_He locked me in he locked me in he locked me in_

I took a few steps back, retreating into the closet and then ran full speed at the door. My right shoulder collided with it and pain spiked through me, making me scream out – the door didn’t budge.

I slid down it, landing on the floor, cradling my shoulder as I cried harder.

_How could he? How could he?_

I clawed at the hard wood floors, I clawed at anything and everything. My nails began braking, my shoulder was barking in pain, but I clawed and clawed and to no avail.

I lost track of time.

 

. . .

 

I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but I was thrown awake by a horrible nightmare. A nightmare of cramped spaces and a certain male between my legs. I was shaking, there was sweat sliding down my back and neck and nausea ripped through my stomach violently. I only had a few moments to grab a handbag before I was thoroughly sick.

 

. . .

 

There was light creeping in from under the door, even the light seemed to be afraid of the wardrobe, the darkness was my only friend. I’d fallen asleep at a strange angle and my neck was so stiff that it ached to move. My shoulder hurt less but still throbbed and my hands were bloody from ripping at the floor and door, trying to claw my way out. And the stench of my vomit stung my nose, my mouth tasted like garbage and I coughed and spluttered everywhere.

Panic and fear coursed through me again.

I banged on the door and screamed and screamed. Hoping that Tamlin would finally let me out, or maybe one of the maids. I didn’t even care if it was some lonely drunk off the street. I needed to get out.

“Tamlin, anyone. Let me out!”

My throat was raw and when I yelled it felt like a dozen knives were cutting into it. I cried out one last time before stopping and taking a deep breath. I had to calm down, I needed to get myself out of this mess. I could do this, I had to do this.

What had my life become?

The light that seeped from the bedroom allowed me to look for something I could use to break free. I turned around and rummaged through both sides of the wardrobe, hoping that there was something useful.

There was very little.

I came up with two pairs of chunky heals, an old lamp that looked like it’s been there for years and I stole one of the shelves off my shoe rack. All I needed to do was bust a whole in the door, or break the door knob – praying that it didn’t permanently lock me in.

I bashed the shoes against the door until both pairs broke, the heel snapped off one and the other pair literally fell to pieces. The lamp made a few dents but nothing else and the wooden shelf came close to breaking a whole in the door, but it snapped. I threw it down in frustration and pushed the palms of my hand to my eyes.

“Come on, come on. Please someone, anyone, let me out. Save me,” I began muttering into the darkness as tears rolled down my face and I began slapping the door weakly. My forehead was pushed up against the door as if my mind could persuade the door to unlock itself

“Please, let me out, please,” I cried, my breathing hitched, and I was once again thrown into the throes of panic and terror. My body was shaking, and I don’t know how there were any tears left but they streamed down my face.

“Please, please someone let me out,” I screamed, my voice breaking. It was a horrid sound – my voice. It almost sounded like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. I continued to scream and scream and scream.

But my voice became weaker and so did my pounding.

I was about to give up when I heard footsteps.

“Help, please someone. Let me out. Tamlin, let me out!” I wailed louder, my fist was probably bruised from slamming it against the door, but I didn’t care, I needed to get out.

I saw my saviour’s feet stop at the door, their shadows partially blocking out the already dim light, and I heard the door unlock.

“Oh, my dear,” said one of the maids as she scurried into help me to my feet. The sun was too bright as is streamed in through the large windows and my breath was still stuck in my throat. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said with such tenderness that my heart broke and all that had happened slammed into me. The sobs were quieter this time as the maid – Alis I think her name was – led me to the bathroom and grabbed a first aid kit.

She thoroughly cleaned all my cuts and surveyed my bruises, all the while I sat there, silent and mute. My mind was a void of thought, a void of feeling. The walls weren’t closing in on me anymore and I wasn’t consumed by darkness but being trapped in there broke me so thoroughly that I had a hard time caring about anything and everything.

The man I loved and was supposed to spending the rest of my life with trapped me in the wardrobe and left me there to rot. He caged me as if I was no better than a disobedient dog. So, I sat there as she looked at me worriedly and as she cleaned and stitched and mended.

“All done sweetie,” she said gently and turned to place everything in the box before looking at me, really taking me in and observing me.

“Feyre, do you want to stay? Do you have anywhere to go?” she asked. I slowly turned my head to look at her. She was one of the maids that always said hello to me and used to let me help her in the kitchens – when I could still be bothered to do things like cook and paint and smile.

I sat there for a few more moments before finding the energy to say yes but instead I just nodded. I didn’t want to be a burden to Alis, I didn’t want to crash with her also out fo fear that Tamlin would somehow be able to find me. No, I had to really get away from here. Away from the large house and empty relationship. I needed to escape.

I slowly and got up to grab some clothes. Muscle memory pulled out a pair of black leggings and a woollen jumper. I slid my feet into my converse slowly not having a lot of energy after…after…

I surveyed the room, not glancing at that damned wardrobe and walked to Tamlin’s bedside cabinet. I held my left hand out and shakily took off my engagement ring – placing it down gently before I walked out of that house and didn’t look back, not even once.

 

. . .

 

I walked out of those walls that had been my prison, past those roses that I’d stared at for far too many days and left the life I was supposed to have on Tamlin’s bedside table.

He would be furious, I could imagine his reaction when he came home from work to find me gone – that extravagant and ornate ring left for him.  

I had left Tamlin. I’d left. I’d walked out that door and left.

It wasn’t until I was about thirty minutes away from that house when I realised I sported nasty bruises and cuts all over my body, thankfully most were covered by my huge jumper, but I couldn’t cover up the bruise that displayed itself on my face. I tried to care, tried to find it in me to care about that small detail but I couldn’t. The only emotion I was feeling was tiredness – if tiredness was classified as an emotion.

I continued to walk through the streets of Springfield and Autunno, I even think I made it through Gelid, but it didn’t really matter what suburbs I walked through, all I knew was that I walked all day and found somehow myself in Velaris.

I took a deep breath in – but that did little to help, I still felt worthless and trapped. Like I’d never get out. I wondered the streets that I loved and found no joy in it. I smelt delicious food but didn’t want to eat – I hadn’t eaten in over a day. I also walked past those beautiful art stores but couldn’t even look into them without feeling my heart fracture. I was in the place that I loved and utterly miserable.

By the time I made it to the Rainbow, my legs were aching from all the walking I’d done, and my breathing was thoroughly ragged. My throat still hurts viciously, and I had to sit down more than once to regain my composure.

The sun had almost set completely when I realised that I didn’t have anywhere to stay. I looked around the street, though I didn’t know what I was looking for when I locked eyes with a certain male and I froze.

 

. . .

 

Rhys

 

There she was. Feyre. She stood not too far in front of where I sat with my family, eating dinner, laughing and having a great time. But she wasn’t laughing, no, she didn’t even smile when I saw her in the streets. She looked far too thin and her eyes were lifeless. No emotion there whatsoever. What’s worse is that she had a huge bruise blooming on her cheek and dark circles underneath her eyes. It was as if she’d been through hell and back. Twice.

I rose from my seat, never breaking eye contact for fear that she’ll disappear, and I’d never see her again.

She looks so frail, standing there amongst the flurry and life of the most vibrant part of Velaris. My heart breaks as I continue to take her in, approaching her slowly, as if she were a scared little animal. Her hands are bandaged, and her eyes don’t even glint with recognition as I stand only a few feet in front of her.

What the hell happened to her?

I attempted to be smooth and charming, maybe hoping that she’ll respond with something cocky or funny.

“Feyre darling, long time no see,” I said as I smirked at her.

There was no response.

 

. . .

 

Feyre

 

Rhys was there, standing before me with a shit eating grin on his face that didn’t exactly meet his eyes. I didn’t know what to say to him. We hadn’t talked in weeks and I’d ignored him on several occasions not having the energy to talk to him, to talk to anyone. I still didn’t.

“Hi,” I said quietly and begin to study the ground. 

“How are you Feyre darling?” Rhys purred. That would have once sent me into a flurry of excitement but now…now I couldn’t care less.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled.

I glanced up and saw that he didn’t seem convinced at all, not in the slightest. 

After a moment of silence, in which we stand there just staring at each other Rhys asks me a question.

“Feyre, would you like to join me for dinner? I’m currently eating with my family but I’m sure they wouldn’t squeezing in an extra seat,” he asked, his voice like midnight.

I glimpsed behind him and see Cassian, Mor, Azriel and a small woman that I presume is Amren, all staring at me intently. 

I gulped. 

“Of course, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not wearing the right clothes,” I said, trying to make up any excuse to avoid me seeing other people. 

“Then it’s a good thing that we don’t really care how one dresses,” Rhys said, smiling like a cat and offering out his arm.


	16. A New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre has dinner with the inner circle and can't handle it.  
> Rhys worries about her keeps a special eye on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE, I HAVE BEEN ON HOLIDAYS FOR THE PAST THREE WEEKS AND COULDN'T UPDATE. 
> 
> Here is chapter 16 I hope you enjoy it and comment on anything you like.

Rhys

 

She just sat there, staring at her hands all through dinner. She wouldn’t speak unless someone spoke to her and even then, she was disconnected from the conversation. She was there physically but mentally she was floating between thoughts, worlds, universes. I wondered what that glorious mind was thinking – if it was thinking of anything at all.

She was a shell in comparison to what she was. No longer full of life and ready to embrace anyone and everything. Did she even paint anymore? Could she stand to paint? What had Tamlin done to her these past months?

Her once enormous appetite had completely diminished as well. She didn’t eat a single thing, not one bite of the food she had randomly selected when Mor insisted she chose something.

Not one single bite.

I had continued to glance at her, hoping to read into some of the horrors that had happened and only noticed then that her left hand wasn’t adorned with that abhorrent ring. My eyes flashed to hers as she saw me make that distinct observation and shifted her hands back to her lap. Well that made more sense now. I wondered to the extent of how badly their relationship had ended.

I had tried to coax some laughter out of her then, but she seemed to just stare at me through her dull, lifeless eyes. It was utter agony. I spent the better half of the night casting inappropriate remarks in her direction the hope that she would respond. I had hoped her eyes would sparkle with amusement or the side of her mouth would quirk up…but…nothing.

“So where have you been gym buddy. I’ve missed you,” Cassian smirked at Feyre, as worried as I was.

“Umm.” Her shoulders caved in on themselves and she seemed to retreat further away. “I was…busy...with, busy with everything,” she stuttered out, her words unsure and her eyes hollow.

“Well you better be there soon, no one else shows up at 5am,” Cassian laughed. Mor rolled her eyes.

“That’s because everyone else is normal,” she joked.

We laughed.

Feyre did not.

 

. . .

 

 

Feyre

 

I sat there. Mindlessly. Absently. Distantly. I couldn’t make eye contact with Rhys, didn’t want to. I ignored Mor’s sunshiny comments, avoided Cassian’s smartass remarks, turned away from Az and closed my eyes every time Amren spoke or looked at me. This entire night was exhausting and all I wanted to do was crawl up into bed – although I didn’t have a bed now. The bed I once had was in the house of the man whom I used to love. I was homeless, penniless and loveless (I had been for some time now).

Tears welled in my eyes. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute it was Lucien, Tamlin and I against the world and the next the world had crumpled. Utterly and completely. This was way worse than after my incident. Why was Tamlin worse now than after my incident? It didn’t make sense. Had he met someone else or was he so obsessed with work that he physically couldn’t see what he was doing to me?

I sat through dinner, playing with my scabbed hands or staring at the steaming plate of food that made my stomach churn. Food didn’t seem important. Why would it be important to fuel my body when I had nothing to do in it? I was a grain of sand at the bottom of the sea – completely useless and it wouldn’t make one single difference if I disappeared into oblivion. I was a tiny insignificant waste of space. Why was I here?

Every now and then I would touch my left ring finger, attempting to play with that massive ring before realising it that I left it at his house, on his bedside table and then everything of the past few days would crash over me again.

Everyone became too overwhelming. The sounds, the people, the smells of food wafting from everyone’s plates, but the most overwhelming thing was Rhysand’s piercing gaze as his eyes flicked to me throughout the entire night.

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t do this.

How was I expected to be normal, to do normal things, when I felt like there was a black pit swallowing me whole?

I was suffocating, like someone was strangling me. I hadn’t seen Rhys in months, surely, he hated me. Surely. I hated myself so maybe it wouldn’t make any difference if someone else hated me.

“Excuse me,” I whispered as I got up and walked out of the restaurant. I knew they were judging me for being a pathetic waste of space but at that point I couldn’t give two fucks. I needed to get away before I collapsed entirely where there would be no way of coming back.

I walked through the streets along the Sidra – why had I come here anyways? All this art just reminded me of him. Everything reminded me of him. The golden light glinting on the water that cascaded from the nearby restaurants and streetlamps was his golden hair. The emerald green store fronts were his springtime eyes. Everyman that walked near me was him.

My lungs shut, they just stopped working. Air, there wasn’t enough of it.

I collapsed to the ground, gripping my chest as my eyes watered. I couldn’t focus on anything but him and what he did. He…he…

There was a silky-smooth voice in my ear and then hands rubbing my back, as if to coax the air back into my pathetic lungs.

“Breathe, breath. Just relax. Whoever hurt you can’t touch you now. You are safe, you are free,” his whisper caressed my ear and soul. But my heart cracked further at his words. Was I free? Was I safe? Maybe I was safe from him, but I wasn’t safe from myself. My stained soul would forever haunt me as it remembered what I _let_ him do.

My lungs barely loosened their tight grip on the air and oxygen flowed again, slowly, too slowly.

His strong hand continued to rub my back, not to caress but to soothe. It was a touch I hadn’t felt in a long while. His touch was respectful not dominating, controlling.

My shoulders tensed again as I thought of him and this time I couldn’t stop myself as the tears flowed, ugly and disgusting. They wracked my body so thoroughly that it hurt, physically pained me as I slouched there sobbing my guts out. My knees hurt as they dug into the ground and I struggled to breathe again.

“You’re safe, you’re free. Breathe. Imagine you are walking through a forest, trees, towering trees are all around you. There is a soft midnight breeze as you stroll through them. You stumble upon a clearing and look up. There you can see,” my breathing slowed, “the endless night sky,” I stopped crying, “jasmine flowers tickle your toes as you walk further into it and then lay down amongst the fragrant lovelies that offer you peace and comfort.”

I turn my face to his, my saviours face shone brightly in the streetlight.

“The night sky is inviting and warm and you spend hours just looking at the stars,” he whispered.

I breathe out, feeling lighter and less burdened and not like I’m about to lose myself in that hole in my chest. My tears were stained with my tears, but I could breathe again.

“Thank you,” I breathed as I rested my head on his shoulder, absolutely knackered from my exhausting few days. I was so, so tired – I needed to sleep, I needed a bed, desperately.

Rhys just continued to massage my back, almost knowing that I still didn’t have the strength to rise from the ground without collapsing again.

The warmth from him soaked into my arm and back. It was cosy and inviting against the harsh chill of the night. I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open a second longer and just focused on breathing in his scent, he was my anchor to the world.

“Feyre,” he muttered as I fell into the oblivion.

 

. . .

 

Rhys

 

She was soon breathing evenly as we sat there in the middle of the Sidra just mere minutes from the restaurant we’d been eating at.

I could see her slowly losing her mind throughout that dinner and tried so hard to stop her from breaking completely. It hadn’t worked. It didn’t matter what I said she had continued to spiral down further into herself. I don’t think anything would have prevented it from happening.

I’d followed her just to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid and my own heart broke as she collapsed to the ground, clutching her chest.

What had that asshole done to her?

I just sat there with her and stroked her back, knowing that so many months after my sister and mother died all I had wanted was for someone to be there for me, to just comfort me without words. And that’s what I had done for Feyre. She deserved that much, anyone did.

In seconds this beautiful broken person was asleep. I smiled knowing she was comfortable enough to fall asleep on me. I still didn’t like to fall asleep with anyone else in my room or near me in the fear that my nightly horrors would shake me awake, scaring everyone near me. Showing them just how much their deaths still haunted me.

Knowing that I wasn’t going to return back to the restaurant and praying Mor wouldn’t follow me back to my house I slowly lifted Feyre up off the cold ground and carried her back to my house.

Gods, she was so light. She must be flesh and bone underneath her sweater and even her leggings which were supposed to be skin tight sagged. She’d been through hell with Tamlin and I would enjoy every second of ripping him apart.

The night air was cool and tickled my neck as I slowly but surely found my way to my small residential house in a quiet and beautiful suburb close enough to the Sidra that it didn’t take me long to walk. I loved this suburb, the trees lining it and I was one of the lucky ones who had a house facing the beach as well. The front of my house was open to the road, whereas the back of my house opened onto a small cliff with a huge beach sprawled out before the crashing waves. It was beautiful.

I placed Feyre down on the spare bed and slowly shimmied her shoes off before tucking her into the comfy duvet and kissing her softly on the forehead.

I left her in the room, almost reluctant to leave and shut the door behind me.

 _WHERE DID YOU GO MISTER_ flashed across my phone as I plonked down on the couch, rolling my shoulders once and poured myself a glass of hard, dark liquor.

 _I’m at home, Feyre’s in the spare room,_ I texted back to Mor before chucking my phone at the couch opposite and sliding back into it. I couldn’t help but think, Feyre, beautiful and gorgeous Feyre was in my house, only a few rooms from where I sat.

I shut my eyes, only for a moment before I heard a muffled sob and a scream that ripped through my heart.


	17. A Slow Trek Out of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre has a nightmare and Rhys is there to help - though afterwards he is haunted by the encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY I know it's been ages since I've last updated and this chapter is kind of uneventful but I hope you enjoy

There was unending darkness, no way out. I screamed, and I cried, and no one came to my rescue. They used to say that your prince would gallop on a white horse and rescue you from your tower but there was no horse, no prince and no tower, just eternal darkness. The walls were closing in on me, I could barely breathe properly. The tiny wardrobe got smaller and smaller until I couldn’t move at all. I clawed at the doors, at the walls but there was no way of escaping.

“Help me please!” I sobbed, my voice cracking. There was nothing left in me to give. There was nothing I wanted to give anymore. I didn’t want to be here. I couldn’t be here.

The darkness continued on.

 

. . .

 

I sat in the corner of the bedroom, clutching my legs to my chest as I cried and cried – rocking backwards and forwards. I was trapped, there was no way out. Light barely seeped into the darkness through the crack under the door and then there was light flooding the space and a man running into the room, pausing, surveying and then running to me.

I screamed again and curled my head into my knees, trying to protect myself from him – he’ll lock me up again, he’ll leave me to die in that gods damned wardrobe.

“Feyre, oh Feyre. It’s me, Rhys. I’m Rhys, it’s just me,” he soothed as he sat in front of me, stroking my shin and gently lifting my head. “It’s just me.”

I let his hand guide me and found his eyes. Those were his eyes. His beautiful violet eyes that had kept me up for weeks. I loved his eyes. Not the emerald green eyes of meadows, they were soft and beautiful – just like him.

“Rhys,” I snivelled and then bolted for the small adjoining bathroom, my stomach catching up to my feelings and the strong emotions still coursing through me. I was then thoroughly sick and emptied bile into the toilet. My retching filled the too quiet house and my knees stung against the cold tiles. Lifeless hair hung around my face until Rhys collected it up whilst rubbing soothing strokes down my back.

“It’s okay, no one here can hurt you,” he said as I continued to empty the contents of my stomach. I hated feeling like this, worthless. But…someone had come to help me, someone was here to comfort me. No one had ever been there for me, not like this. It was reassuring and something I hadn’t realised I’d needed. Tamlin had always been there with me, to protect me against others and myself and it had been infuriating. He was always there but not like this, not with this much…respect.

I took a deep breath in and lent my head against the icy toilet ball and let its frigidness soak into my scorching head. The freshness soothed me just as much as the man behind me did.

I took a shaky breath in and let the air soothe my lungs, my beating heart and broken soul. It had been so hard to keep myself from breaking in front of people, in front of Rhys, but there was nothing I could do anymore. He’d seen me at my worst, maybe the only person who had – and who hadn’t run away from me, yet, who hadn’t seen me as someone in need of protecting but…healing. This beautiful man behind me was there for me even when I hadn’t talked to him in months. He was still standing behind me, always there for me when I hadn’t been there for myself in weeks – maybe months.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked compassionately.

“No, no I don’t think I’m ready.”

“I’m always here though, in case you need to,” he offered.

“Thank you, for everything,” I said looking at him, I flushed the toilet and sitting back against the freezing tiles and bath I let my head fall back. I stared up at the ceiling and continued to allow the purifying air to wash in and out of my lungs.

“I have no home,” I whispered into the moonlit space, afraid that saying it any louder would make it more true, more real.

“Stay then. Stay for as long as you need,” Rhys proposed, sitting opposite me.

“No, I couldn’t…I couldn’t impose like that,” I argued. I couldn’t be that much of a burden.

“You wouldn’t be, I have a spare room and I own this house. Yes, Az and Cas live here as well so you might have to see them every now and then but stay – just until you get your feet back on the ground then you can leave and go wherever you want.”

His offer was too generous, too perfect. But I didn’t have a place and unless I wanted to be homeless…

“You sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Rhys said with that insufferable smirk.

“I don’t have anything, I left it all…all of my stuff it’s with him,” I said, suddenly aware that I had nothing apart from the clothes on my back.

“Would you like to grab anything from him?” Rhys asked.

“No, nothing in that house is mine, not anymore,” I breathed.

“Then tomorrow you and I are going shopping,” he said, a massive, devious smile on his face.

“Shopping? With you? You can’t be serious?”

“I happen to be rather fashionable,” he joked. “Or you could go with Mor?”

“No, I’ll just go with you, it’ll be easier. I’ll only need a few things until I get a job and then I’ll pay you back,” I said, suddenly tired again. Like I’d used all my energy up on talking to him.

“Okay,” he said, peeling himself off the floor, “let’s get you back to bed then.” He offered out a hand and I took it, ignoring its warmth, its strength, its stability.

“Thank you.”

We walked through the bathroom and back into the bedroom, where I crawled back onto the bed and curled up on my side, underneath the plush duvet.

“Goodnight Feyre,” Rhys said and went to close the door.

I sucked in a breath and whimpered a bit, prepared to beg him to leave it open, to not keep me locked in but he turned back at the last second – hearing my plea.

“Would you like the door left open?”

“Yes please,” I whispered, my eyes becoming heavy and blurry with tiredness.

Then, without me having to ask Rhys walked over the window and pulled back the gossamer curtains allowing the moonlight to flow in – snow began to trickle from the sky.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice full of gratitude for his small act of kindness.

“You’re welcome Feyre.”

 

. . .

 

Rhys

 

I laid in bed for hours and hours. I didn’t know why I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I was waiting for Feyre to scream again so that I could save her from her bedtime horrors, or I was so frazzled by how severely small and fragile she seemed that I was worried she’d fall asleep and never wake up – that she’d be frightened to death by her nightly horrors.

I heard Cass and Az stumble home at one point, no doubt having followed Mor to Rita’s and by the sounds of the slurs, Cassian had gotten rip-roaring drunk.

Once the house quieted down, I was left to the array of thoughts that swirled and eddied around my head.

My thoughts were churning – thinking of ways to murder Tamlin eventually lulled me to sleep.

 

. . .

 

The sun was barely up when I was yanked from my futile sleep. Tossing and turning for hours meant that that morning I was exhausted as I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen to pour myself a hot cup of coffee.

I savoured the quietness of the house, knowing that it would be hours before Cassian got up, though I presumed that maybe Az would wake up shortly and do some work. It never stopped with him.

I sat down at that table I had first shared breakfast with Feyre, and the rest of my family. That felt like years ago now, so much had changed – she had changed and not in the good way. I could tell she was drowning, stumbling from one haunting memory to the next.

“You’re up early,” Az said as he sat across from me, black coffee in hand and his hair mussed by sleep.

“Yeah, bad night,” I said, taking a big drink of that hot bitterness that slowly woke me up. “I thought you’d still be dead to the world.”

“Mor dragged us to Rita’s, but they were both getting pissed so,” he laughed quietly, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “How’s Feyre?” he asked solemnly.

I took a deep breath, leaning back into the chair. The warm light of morning glinted on the ocean and snow and for a while the sound of the crashing waves was all to be heard.

“She’s not doing well,” I said, still looking out at the water. “I don’t know how to help.” I finally spoke the truth – what had been haunting me since seeing her last night. I didn’t know if I could help her walk out of the darkness that so consumed her. Was I even the right person to help her? I was still struggling with everything…

“I think Rhys, that you’ll be able to help her. You more than the rest of us.” His eyes were soft, his voice caring and considerate. “Look, I’ll whip us up some breakfast.” I nodded in thanks, heard the scrape of the chair on the floorboards, and his feet brush on the floor as he traipsed off to the kitchen. Az wasn’t as good a cook as Cassian, but he was still so much better than I could ever be. I could cook an egg, maybe boil some pasta but past that I was screwed. Cooking was not my forte, eating was.  

The sound of sizzling filled the room and a delicious smell wafted past my nose – bacon. Az was cooking bacon. Thank the Cauldron.

Whilst Az worked on breakfast, I busied myself with some work – it took my mind off Feyre, kept me from checking on her again and again. Though I must admit every now and then I would pop down and just gaze into the room. The snow had piled up on the balcony now and I could hear the distant sounds of it being cleared from paths and roads. But she seemed happy, content, snuggled deep into the pillows and covers. Her face relaxed by sleep.

“Is that bacon I smell,” came Cassian’s voice from a few rooms down. Cassian stood there, shirtless and rubbing sleep out of his eyes – hair crinkled and knotted.

“Yes, you ass,” I said as I walked back to the kitchen, Cassian following me. “Why are you awake, you still look drunk.”

“There’s bacon,” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and that I was a moron for not realising.

“Of course,” I rolled my eyes and then shoved him as I made my way to the breakfast table, Az having spread plates of eggs, bacon, toast and muffins. To my utter delight, Cassian fell over and spent the next ten minutes scowling at me as we ate.


	18. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre struggles to get out of bed, rhys is a mother hen and worries for her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE, but its holidays now so i'm planning on finishing this and hopefully starting on something else for you guys to read 
> 
> enjoy :)

It was noon and Feyre was still asleep – practically dead to the world.

After I’d eaten with Cass and Az, cleaned up and done some work, I went to check on her – thinking she’d have been awake and ready to go by now, but she was still asleep. Breathing evenly, she was curled up into the blankets and plush mattress. God, she looked tiny in comparison to that bed.

I let her sleep, knowing that it had been a while since she had slept properly but when it got to two in the afternoon I finally broke. This wasn’t normal, she should’ve been up by now.

“Feyre,” I whispered as I gently shook her shoulder. She groaned, and her eyes darted open, sitting up abruptly that had me jumping up from where I’d perched on the bed beside her.

“What happened? What time is it? What is it?” she asked so quickly I nearly missed all her questions. Her voice seemed concerned, her eyes bright with alarm.

“Nothing Feyre, it’s two in the afternoon, I thought that if you kept sleeping you wouldn’t sleep tonight,” I said, slightly sheepish for waking her up.

“Oh shit, sorry,” she sighed, but she seemed to look as tired as she did last night. Her bags under her eyes had somehow grown and it looked like she shrunk again, her bones jutting out, her cheekbones sharp.

“No that’s okay. I’ll get you something to eat.” I turned to walk out of the room, but I was stopped by her voice sulking across the room.

“No, I’m not hungry, I’ll be fine. I just need a shower,” she said lifelessly and wandered into the adjoining bathroom without a single look back.

How wasn’t she hungry, at all? She was nothing my skin and bone and looked as if guilt and misery and pain was eating her alive. She needed to eat otherwise she’d waste away. Maybe I’d try and coax some coffee into her, or a small bit of toast. Anything for her to eat.

Her bruise on her face was worse than it was yesterday, an impressive shade of purple and yellow. I’d kill Tamlin for that. For each of the scratches and marks that had found its way onto her body. She deserved better than that, everyone did.  

I made myself busy by making her that coffee and one for myself as well. Losing myself in heating up the milk and measuring out the coffee beans, anything so I wasn’t there staring at the door she had gone through and wondering what was happening in that brain of hers.

 

. . .

 

Feyre 

 

The warm water cascaded over my skin as I stood in the shower, soaking up its heat. I breathed the steam in deeply but didn’t make to wash myself or my hair – even though my hair was disgustingly greasy, and I smelled terrible after wondering through the streets all yesterday.

That was only yesterday – only yesterday. The steam became thick smog and I had to crouch onto the shower floor to keep myself from toppling over. I still felt his abusive touch as he attacked my core and breasts. I still felt the way I was slammed into walls and how his strong abusive hand felt against my face. The bruise that bloomed there was a sight to behold just like the scratch marks and the handprints that peppered my body.

 _Come on Feyre, get through this shower and then get through the rest,_ I told myself. It stabilised me just enough that I was able to grab a random body wash and lather it all over my body, muscle memory taking over.

I washed my too thin body, but I didn’t really care. So I’d lost weight, he didn’t seem to notice so why would it matter to anyone else. There was no point worrying over it, not when no one seemed to notice anyways. And if I wasted away, who would miss me – I mean I wouldn’t miss myself.

I turned off the water and stepped out into the steamy bathroom, grabbing the midnight blue towel closest to me and dried myself off. That was when I realised that I had no clothes to put on. The ones from yesterday smelled awful and dirt covered them. When did that happen?

I stood there for about five minutes before I gave up and walked out of the bathroom and then my room to find some clothes. Thankfully most of my bruises were covered up so I wouldn’t need to have to explain them to Rhys and he’d already seen the one on my jaw. I just couldn’t be bothered if I was covered up or utterly exposed, it didn’t matter, nothing did anymore.

“Rhys, I need some clothes,” I announced dully whilst walking through the house, towel covering my body. “Rhys,” I said again as I walked into the kitchen.

Rhysand was there, drinking a fresh cup of coffee and a look on his face that almost made me blush – I didn’t blush because his eyes were of another emotion all together. Whilst his face was set in a mischievous grin, his eyes held concern and worry. His violet eyes roamed over my exposed legs as he asked, “Feyre darling, coffee?”

I huffed in annoyance. I was there, almost naked and he was asking me if I wanted coffee. Prick!

“Rhysand do you have any spare clothes I can borrow?” I asked, not bothering to acknowledge the coffee he had just extended out to me.

“Rhysand? I thought we were closer than that,” he said pouting.

“Rhys,” I said, irritated by him.

“Fine, I’ll see if I can find some of Mor’s clothes, she tends to leave her stuff throughout my home,” he said, slightly annoyed. Though I assumed it didn’t annoy him one bit if the slight quirk of his mouth had anything to say for it.

He walked out of the kitchen to find me some clothes and I stood there, looking at the coffee and the bit of toast that sat next to the cup he’d extended to me.

I really should put something into my body, I really couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Was is three or four days now?

My head began pulsing and all of a sudden, I felt feint. The room swirled beneath my feet and I put my hand on the kitchen bench to stabilise myself. Though it did little – I felt as if my knees would collapse beneath me, they didn’t have the strength to keep me standing.

“Feyre,” he said, alarmed as he chucked the clothes on the table and ran to support me. His big strong arms came around me and as he held me close, he guided me to the table to sit.

Black and white dots churned in my vision and then Rhys was leaning down in front of me, a glass of water in one hand and the piece of toast in the other, the coffee sat next to me on the table.

“Here, eat this, you’ll feel better.”

But before I ate the toast, I reached for the water and gulped it down, not realising how thirsty I really was. I was gasping for air after downing the whole glass and then I reached for the toast. I ate it, forcing it down, even though my stomach clenched at the sudden intake of food.

“There,” Rhys comforted as he sat down next to me. “Are you feeling slightly better?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I lent my head on my hand. My headache had just gotten worse and I was exhausted. I needed to sleep. I felt as if I could sleep for a century and still be tired.

“I found you some of Mor’s clothes,” Rhys said, pushing them across the table to me. “Would you still like to go clothes shopping, or would you like to wait until tomorrow,” he asked.

“Tomorrow please.” I was so damn tired. Why was I so tired these days? “Thanks,” I said to Rhys as I slowly stood, still dizzy, as I grabbed the clothes and painfully made it back to the room.

I didn’t say anything to Rhys.

Once I was in the room and once I got into the soft jumper and thick leggings he gave me I toppled into bed, asleep before my head hit the pillow.


	19. The shopping trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre tries to go shopping and almost succeeds but doesn't cope too well

I at least woke up the next day before noon. It was eleven in the morning and the sun was glinting on the fresh layer of snow that had settled on the small balcony.

I stretched out under the covers savouring the last bit of warmth they offered before dragging my sleepy limbs out of bed and into the hot shower.

After I’d washed away the tiredness from my muscles, just barely, and shrugged on the same pair of leggings and jumper I had had on the day before and walked through the house to scrounge up something to eat. I was hungry, hungry enough that my stomach felt concaved.

“Breakfast Feyre darling?” Rhys drawled from where he sat on the couch, laptop on knees and a fluffy ink blue blanket draped over his legs. The picture of sure comfort.

“Yes please. What do you have?”

“The usual, eggs, bacon, pancakes, croissants, muffins…what?”

My eyebrows shot up at the long list of food, sure it was nothing different to Tamlin’s home, but he also has maids and butlers to feed. Rhys lived here with only two other guys.

“I just didn’t expect for you to have a buffet of food,” I said, an incredulous look spread across my face.

“Well when your friends practically live here, even though they have their own place you tend to keep a stocked fridge and pantry,” he smirked.

“Do you have any fruit or yoghurt?” I asked, standing awkwardly near the kitchen whilst his eyes scanned me from head to toe. I was fully clothed, but I’d never felt more naked, it was as if he could see my scars, cuts and bruises. I pulled the long woollen sleeves over my hands to cover the cuts and band aids.

“Yeah, Greek yoghurt, vanilla yoghurt and the fruit bowl in the middle of the bench,” he said as he shut his laptop and came over to help me find the bowls and spoons.

When I’d eaten an apple and a peach and a whole bowl of the most delicious vanilla yoghurt and Rhys was satisfied with the sufficient amount of food, I’d consumed we finally drove to the Sidra to go clothes shopping.

Except when we arrived, I was appalled at the stores he took me to. The price tags revealed the substantial amount of money Rhys was willing to exploit on my clothes. I couldn’t let him do that. This was absolutely absurd.

“Rhys, I’m fine with going to the nearest cheapest department store. Most of my clothes originally weren’t anything special, that doesn’t need to change.”

“Consider this an early Christmas present,” Rhys said, completely unfazed as we walked into one of the overpriced, but adorably cute clothes store, wiping snow of our jackets and hitting our shoes against the doorframe. The warmth of the shop encasing us, our snow jackets becoming near sweltering.

“No Rhys, this is a lot of money, I couldn’t let you do that for me,” I begged.

“Then don’t look at the price tags,” he joked, the smug smile back on his face, but as he looked over his shoulder, he saw my face – desperate and annoyed.

“Feyre, seriously, it’s okay.  You deserve to be wearing something better than two-dollar leggings or shirts.” He held my face softly, “Feyre, I don’t mind and if you haven’t noticed everyone in my family, well mostly everyone has a taste for expensive things me included. But if you seriously wish it, we can go buy you those two-dollar leggings. But before we do just try on one thing in this store. That’s all I ask,” he said, releasing my face.

“Fine you prick,” I mumbled, but Rhys just laughed, his smugness emanating from his body. “Don’t you dare think I’m happy about this.”

“Oh, I know your severely unimpressed by this.”

I rolled my eyes and looked over to the rack of jeans. I’d never seen jeans that looked like that. I ran my hand across the different pairs, they were so eternally soft. But then I saw the pile of woollen jumpers folded immaculately. There were tight knit and loose knit jumpers ranging from different colours – they were beautiful. But it didn’t stop there, on the other side of the room they had a whole wall dedicated to dresses. I was definitely not a dress person however, these weren’t the frilly floral numbers Tamlin used to buy me. No, these were sleek and elegant. Day dresses, night gowns and a number of other types that I didn’t know existed.

But the jeans behind me, those, I was drawn to those. I grabbed my size and begrudgingly turned to find Rhys, except he was over in the men’s section, fingering a fine-looking black work shirt. He looked up though to find my eyes on him and that smirk appeared on his face – again.

“Go try them on.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He was an actual prick, manipulating me into trying on these clothes – these soft, beautiful clothes. I should just put them down now and forget all about them, but this was the first time in days, weeks, months that I felt any semblance of normalcy. So, I gave in. I tried the jeans on.

Standing in front of the changing room mirror, I realised how thin and miserable I looked. Grief seemed to have eaten me alive these past months. My eyes were sunken, and my cheekbones jutted out too strongly. My once curvy, strong body was nothing more than skin on bone. I couldn’t look at me anymore, I couldn’t see what I’d become – what I’d let myself become.

The jeans fit perfectly, more than perfectly; it was as if those jeans were made for my body. This new weathered body. But I couldn’t give myself to care, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about them. A familiar depthless pit yawned open inside me, threatening to drag me to that familiar nothingness.

I stormed out of the small changeroom, practically ripping the heavy silken cloth off the hooks.

“Let’s go,” I demanded. To hell with what he thought about me. I saw the way I had looked in the mirror and it reminded me enough that I couldn’t give a shit if I wore jeans or leggings or anything. I was angry, furious. I had let him do this to me. I had let him-

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything beyond the stars that clouded my vision. Screw this absurd shopping expedition, screw Tamlin, screw Rhys and all his friends happy and carefree and screw me, because I was cold and unhappy and couldn’t stand being on this earth if this was what I was going to feel for the rest of my life.

“Feyre?” his eyes guttered.

“No,” I said and stormed out. He followed. The car trip was deathly quiet.

 

. . .

 

I slept and sat in my room for the next week. I couldn’t be bothered leaving and I wore the same clothes. I didn’t care.

Rhys brought me food, breakfast, lunch and dinner. I nibbled at them, eating a bit more food each day as I slowly regained my appetite. I dreamed less too. Whether it was being in a new place or the closeness of Rhys I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I seemed to stumble through my days and they somehow became slightly more bearable – just slightly.


	20. Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is trying to rediscover herself, and experiences some happy moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is LONG. And I know we just had Christmas but the next few chapters will be dedicated to Christmas because my lazy ass didn't write them in time to release them during the Christmas season. 
> 
> ALSO the last part of this chapter has literally been pulled straight out of ACOMAF, I have just modified it slightly to fit in with my timeline. It was the perfect bit that I needed for Feyre to start opening up - please don't kill me for it. The rest is 100% original.

Rhys

 

The house had been turned into a Christmas wonderland. Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren came around on the Friday night and helped me decorate the freshly cut Christmas tree, put up lights outside and around the house, hang mistletoe and holly from every doorframe and then we spent the rest of the night until the early hours of the morning making a miniature gingerbread village. The smell still hung around the house, the spicy, sweet tang a welcoming and cosy scent.

Feyre came out of her room once to help with the decorating of the Christmas tree where she actually smiled and seemed happy but then shortly after wandered back to her room, I haven’t seen her since. It’s Saturday afternoon.

When I went to take her breakfast before I heard the shower running so I just turned away, taking the scrambled eggs with me. But then when I went back later, she shouted something about being busy, but I heard the way her voice cracked – she’d been crying.

She was getting better, slowly. She ate dinner with everyone now and that filled me with such joy that I didn’t mind that she still stayed in her room most of the day. Thank the gods there had been an improvement. She even went out for lunch with us on the yesterday before everyone came over that night when the house was transformed. We all ordered too much food, she ate a whole burger and even half a dessert – something I knew she hadn’t done for a while. I was so proud, even though it felt like I hadn’t helped her a whole lot. She still hadn’t told be a whole lot of what had happened just that he had locked her up. But maybe she would finally open up, maybe she would finally talk to me.

Her hands and face had healed enough that there was only a slight hint that she’d every had any cuts and bruises. Though every time I saw them an unending rage coursed through me – I could only imagine what I’d do to that bastard the next time I saw him. I grinned devilishly.

Cassian was currently in the kitchen, cooking the Christmas ham. He was glazing it at the moment and kept a watchful eye on it the entire time it was cooking, no better than a mother fussing over a new born child. He did this every Christmas.

“Rhys come here and taste,” he yelled.

I couldn’t help but laugh when I walked in, Cassian was wearing a ridiculous Christmas apron, white and frilly with Christmas embroidered in red, a Santa hat on his head and his hair tied up and out of his face. He also chose to wear bright green track pants and Ugg boots. It would be the understatement of the century if I just said that Cassian likes Christmas. He lives for it and has a countdown in his room set up by 26th of December. He might look like a vicious warrior but underneath his massive muscles he was a puppy – a Christmas crazed puppy.

“That’s delicious,” I said with a heap of ham in my mouth. Cassian beamed and set about carving some up for breakfast tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to see what he did with the Turkey. Every year he changed his stuffing and glaze. If he gets sick of being a personal trainer, I have a good feeling that he will become a chef. He’s that good.

“How’s Feyre?” Cassian asked, carving the ham.

I sighed, she was getting better – damn she was a lot better but…

“She’s…coping. She’s eating a lot more and you can see her face isn’t as gaunt but, I’m still worried. Still so worried about her and what she’s dealing with. She hasn’t spoken much to me about what happened. I don’t even think she wants to talk to me about it – I wouldn’t expect that of her. I just think that she should to talk to someone.” I sighed, my hand running through my hair.

“Have you thought of maybe talking her into exercising again, it would help with her mental and physical health,” Cassian stated, covering the rest of the ham and putting it in the freezer. His damned Santa hat still on his head.

“I think I’ll talk to her about that maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

I could see from the concern in Cassian’s eyes that he was just as worried about Feyre as I was. I mean he had known her for longer – I ignored the pang of jealousy that spiked through me at that thought. Cassian was her friend and even if he became more than a friend as long as Feyre was happy I would be happy. If Feyre was happy I would always be happy for her. Always.

 

. . .

 

Feyre

 

I had nothing to wear, absolutely nothing. After my breakdown at the shop last week I was still no closer to having anything other than a dirty pair of leggings and a smelly woollen jumper – great, just great.

Rhys had knocked on my door a few moments ago saying that everyone was going out to dinner tonight and that if I wanted to come along, I was more than welcome. I had said yes, if only to get me out of this room. I was bored. More than bored, I needed something to distract me from me vicious and self-deprecating thoughts, on top of that I needed something to distract me so thoroughly that my mind wouldn’t wonder back to the golden-haired man who’d once held my heart.

But staring at the empty wardrobe I realised that I might have made a severe mistake at accepting Rhys’ invitation. I was about to tell Rhys that I had changed my mind when of all people Mor knocked on the door and entered, four different dresses in one and three different pairs of heals in the other.

“Hello, I thought you might be in a bit of a predicament,” Mor commented as she laid the dresses down on the bed and went out to fetch another five and more heals – how many dresses did she have? “And in need of some company, so I thought you and I could get ready together. You know, girl time.” She went out and brought in bags of makeup, hair curlers, hair straighteners and so many other random beauty products that I thought she was moving in with me.

“You don’t have to do this, seriously,” I started objecting, though I hated to admit it I was relieved that she had come. Interacting with people was tiring but my own company was more so.

“It’s nothing,” she said as she began hanging the dresses up. “Okay you go shower and then we’ll get to the fun stuff.” She like an army officer prepping her soldiers for battle.

“Quickly before I shower, how fancy is this dinner?” I asked, worried that I would be completely out of my league. I had spent months, years even being dolled up and put into fancy situations where I always felt left out and like I didn’t belong.

“The venue is fancy, but we are not.”

I almost sighed in relief, I could dress up. So, I went into the bathroom, showered, and for the first time in months I was actually looking forward to going out, if not a little worried and stressed, but excited – almost happy. Almost.

 

. . .

 

“Dark purple is not your colour. At all!” Mor teased, laughing as I walked out in one of the many dresses she had brought over. I had tried on a yellow beauty however it was too big and hung all wrong. The pink gown was too bright for a winter’s night. The black dress was suffocating. So, there I was trying on a purple dress, Mor laughing her ass off.

I mock scowled at her and just put out my hand for the next dress. Mor, still chuckling, handed me a midnight blue dress, accented with starlight gems.

With low expectations I stripped the purple dress and put on the blue beauty. One look in the bathroom mirror had my jaw hitting the floor. I looked beautiful.

The loose silky skirt that hung to just above my knee flowed like water over smooth pebbles, the bodice was tight-fitting, accentuating my waist. Though the neckline was loose connecting the silk skirt to the silk top. It was elegant. But what made me drop dead was the open back woven together by the thinnest spaghetti straps, corseting me in. I looked…regal.

“Feyre?”

I was beautiful. Or the most beautiful I had felt in months, years even. The starlight gems were concentrated at the waistline of the dress and then spread both down and up, gradually lessening. It was breathtaking.

I walked out of the bathroom and Mor’s face beamed as she said, “That’s the one.” I mirrored her beaming face and we got to work on my hair and makeup, then we did hers. We were ready for dinner.

 

. . .

 

“Where are you going?” I asked Mor, fear evident in my voice as she grabbed her purse and walked out of the room calling for Cass and Az.

“I’m leaving with them,” she said over her shoulder as she winked, glorious red lips parting in a smirk that matched the scandalous red she was matching – bright and powerful. Her blonde hair radiating like sunshine. “Rhys offered to take you, I thought he told you.”

“I was just coming to ask now if she’d like to ride with me,” Rhysand stated, that wicked, mischievous grin appearing on his face. Holly mother of gods. Rhysand looked dazzling. His fine cut black shirt accented with silver thread emphasised his muscled chest and arms – I was dying to touch them. Alongside his biceps, his tight cut pants were enough to make my breath catch.

Rhys’ eyes roamed my body. From the elegant silk dress to my lightly curled hair that was pinned back just enough around the face, bits still hanging loose adding to the softness. My kohl lined eyes that made them appear more icy than blue, matching the gems on my dress, and my deep red lips that tied my entire look together. My face turned pink under his observant, appreciative gaze.

“Feyre, you look lovely.”

“Thank you.” I looked at the floor and played with my fingers, suddenly dreadfully nervous.

“Well Feyre,” he said, holding out an arm for me. Ever the gentleman. “Would you like to ride in my car?” There was doubt in his eyes masked by that smooth confidence. If I wasn’t looking properly I probably would have missed that moment when his mouth twitched, only the slightest as he stood there, waiting for me to respond.

“I’d love to.”

As Mor finally went to leave, throwing me a truly wicked grin I stopped her. “Mor? Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” This time her smile was soft and blissful, unlike the wicked grin that had me rolling my eyes.

I grabbed Rhysand’s forearm and true to my observations they were heavily muscled and glorious to hold. I shoved away that thought. Rhys was a friend, an overly handsome friend that offered me a place to stay, and clothes, and food. He was so generous it made my heart melt. He led me through the house decorated in a number of Christmas ornaments and decorations until we got to his sleek black car that suited him perfectly.

“My lady,” he joked, dropping into a dramatic bow as he opened the car door.

“Prick,” I muttered.

“I heard that,” he stated, huffing a laugh.

As we began to drive through Velaris I admired its beauty. The trees had lost their leaves however were all decorated in numerous amounts of lights all dedicated to the Christmas spirit. They were enchanting. Something tight in my chest eased a fraction of its grip.

“When I was a boy,” Rhys said, “I’d sneak out of the house by climbing through my window – and I’d just gaze at the stars all night by the edge of the Sidra, in the mountains, on the beach. Anywhere I could ride my bike in under an hour. Sometimes, I still do.”

“Your parents must have been thrilled.”

“My father never knew – and my mother…” A pause. “She was from the country. Some nights, when she caught me right as I climbed over my window frame, she’s scold me…and then follow me out into the night. Sometimes, we’d stay out until dawn.

“She sounds lovely,” I admitted.

“She was,” he said. And those two words told me enough about his past that I didn’t pry.

As we drove down the Sidra, I could see the beginnings of the Illyrian mountains iced in snow, content to sleep through the fierce winter. We pulled up on the road, the street lights glimmering like any one of the stars shining brightly in the black night. Again, Rhys opened my door for me, but we didn’t enter the busy restaurant just across the street yet. The restaurant that was limned in elegance, numbers of people laughing over their evening meal and a beautiful pianist playing in the corner on a decadent grand pianoforte.

I shook off his hand that had helped me out of the car and faced the city behind us, laying on the other side of the river.

The size of Velaris was incredible, maybe I remained a naïve child to feel that way, but I had not realised the size of the world – not taken the time to notice it. The size of Prythian and just this grand city offered so much purity and happiness and hope.

Rhysand was silent beside me. Yet, after a moment, he said, “Out with it.”

I lifted a brow.

“You say what’s on your mind – one thing. And I’ll say one, too.”

I shook my head and turned back to the city.

But Rhys said, “I’m thinking that I spent a whole year caught in some woman’s trap, and I’d sometimes let myself dream of this freeness, this…happiness. But I never let myself expect to feel it again. Something you don’t know about me Feyre is that I spent too long in a relationship that controlled me and ruled me and shredded me apart. I’m thinking that I had never met her. I’m thinking that if I had the choice, I would kill her, for what she put me through. It took me a while to come back from that, sometimes I still feel like I’m not there yet.”

He slid his eyes to me, expectant.

I didn’t bother asking who and when that happened, not when he was likely to refuse to answer, even though his situation sounded so, so similar to mind. So I said, “Do you think that you can really recover from something like that?”

“This was a no-question-asked invitation. I told you…three things. Tell me one.”

I stared toward the open world, the city and the restless river and the dry winter night.

Maybe it was some shred of courage, or recklessness, or I was so entranced by the brightness of the stars that I must have been hypnotised, but I said, “I’m thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of his life. I’m thinking there’s a great deal of him in general that he never allowed me to see early on and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet. I’m thinking…” The words became choked. I shook my head as if I could clear the remaining ones away. But I still spoke them, “I’m thinking I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I’m thinking maybe he knew that – maybe not actively, but maybe _he_ wanted to that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn’t work for who I am now.”

There.

The words, hateful and selfish and ungrateful. For all Tamlin had done, but he’d also crossed a fundamental line.

“That was five. Looks like I owe you two thoughts.” He glanced behind us. “Later.”

Because Cassian and Az and Mor had just pulled up. Mor was applying more of that scandalous lipstick, but the two males were looking at us.

Grinning.

 


End file.
